


12 Days of Batmas || Reader Inserts

by TheViperQueen



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: 12 Days of Batmas, 12 Days of Christmas 2020, F/M, I'm already 3 days behind so go me lmao, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:48:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 27,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28108830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheViperQueen/pseuds/TheViperQueen
Summary: 🌟 P. much what it says on the tin.🌟 Unless otherwise specified, all installments will be written with a gender neutral reader character.🌟 Also, as in all my Batboy x Reader fics, Damian is an adult.Up Next: Day Four—Wrapping PresentsChapter 10|| Richard John GraysonLet’s Wrap This Up|| WC: ~1.2KDoesn’t matter how small the feat, he’s always gonna celebrate you.Chapter 11|| Damian WayneHis Favorite Helper Elf|| WC: 1.5K~He falls a little deeper every day…Chapter 12|| Jason Peter Todd‘Martha Stewart’ Who?|| WC: 1.4K~It’s on sight, Ms. Stewart.Chapter 13|| Timothy Jackson DrakeAnd Now You Know (So Please Never Ask Again)|| WC: 1K~He doesn’t fail often, but when he does it’s usually in the most ridiculous way possible…
Relationships: Damian Wayne/Gender Neutral Reader, Damian Wayne/Reader, Dick Grayson/Gender Neutral Reader, Dick Grayson/Reader, Jason Todd/Gender Neutral Reader, Jason Todd/Reader, Tim Drake/Gender Neutral Reader, Tim Drake/Reader
Comments: 15
Kudos: 62





	1. Day One || Dick Grayson || Under Winter Paled Skies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day One || Playing in the Snow  
>   
>  _Not even the sunrise could compete with his smile…_

The snow that steadily falls just outside of your window is disturbed by a streak of black and cerulean. The living shadow disrupts its downward cant, setting the flakes to swirling and carrying them in its backdraft as it dips down only to shoot upwards yet again. This happens a few more times, with each pass being showier than the last. Tucks, spins, waving hands, and extended legs all accompanied by a smile that somehow manages to be the most captivating part it all.

That’s your husband—a showman through and through.

Were you anywhere else but the tiny house that sits on the outskirts of your father-in-law’s property you wouldn’t have been amused by Dick’s actions at all, but as it stands you’re left laughing instead.

When he finally drops down—with all the flourish one would expect, dead center outside the window wall—he takes a bow before coming inside. You clap wildly for him, heaping on the praise and calling for an encore; he responds in kind with more bows and blown kisses and thanks to his adoring audience of one. His smile, so full of genuine joy, leaves your heart aching in the best of ways. He’s almost unbearably beautiful when he’s like this, the light that shines within him too brilliant to look at head on. You had thought that you would’ve built up some sort of tolerance to it over the course of your relationship, and yet here you are still just as weak in the knees as you’d been the very first time he turned that megawatt grin on you.

_It’s just not fair_ , you think as he gathers you up in his arms. He’s too pretty for anyone’s own good. With his windswept hair and rosy cheeks and sapphire eyes and soft, full lips that cuddle themselves against your forehead in the sweetest way imaginable… How are you supposed to function when he’s attacking you on all fronts like this?

The answer is: you don’t.

Instead you melt into his embrace, ignoring the slight chill that clings to the alloy threads that are woven into his suit in favor of trading a few kisses. Words are exchanged as well, simple talk of why you’re up so early (one of those dreaded _‘Surprise, you’re completely awake now!’_ rolls) and plans for the day. You’ve long since gotten used to your man’s seemingly endless stores of energy, but that doesn’t mean that you share in them. His pleas for you to come out and play in the snow with him don’t cease until you point out that there isn’t enough of the stuff out there to actually do anything with. According to the forecast, the snowfall will pick up in an hour or so, though it wouldn’t be able to stick without the help of the current dusting.

“Come out and watch the sunrise with me then?”

That’s a concession you’re all too willing to make.

While you go and get changed, Dick busies himself in the kitchen area. With the limited time afforded to you, he’s not able to do much besides filling up a thermos with some microwaved concoction before giving a couple of leftover pastries the same treatment. He helps you into your boots and your coat the moment you’re dressed, being sure to secure your scarf around the bottom half of your face and your hat around your ears.

“Can’t have my little love getting cold, no sir,” he says before pressing a kiss to one of the few bits of you that is left visible. Your nose wrinkles under his ministration making him laugh as he peppers the tops of your cheeks with a flurry of little pecks.

Once he finally release you he gives himself the same treatment by half, choosing to forgo a coat as he claims his hero costume is more than warm enough. You know it has to be, giving that none of the Bats have yet to lose an extremity to the elements, but your mind still has a hard time imaging the skintight suit to be good for anything other than providing you with a the most enticing of eye candy.

Once you’re both properly bundled up and your goodies collected, he ushers you out of the door he came through earlier. Its metal frame is the only break in an otherwise solid window wall; its presence detracts from the aesthetics a bit, but given the size of the house it cannot be helped. The woods beyond it are somehow rendered yet more foreboding in the slow creep of the impending sunrise. Dawn has turned the sky into an ombre of grays and purples, the pale gradient serving as a solemn canvas on which to display the jagged twists of barren branches. With their low slung boughs curving and jutting as they are, the trees almost seem to beckon you as you step out into the chill; a siren song that originated on some distance island’s shore whistles through the lot of them, inviting you to find a new home with it amongst cracking bark and spires of rime.

The press of a familiar lean body against the puff of your coat saves you from answering the howling call. One toned arm secures itself around your waist while its opposite stretches skywards. The distinct _pop-clank!_ of the grappling hook firing and finding purchase sounds and within that very same second you begin your ascent.

You settle yourselves down on the flat roof in much the same position that you reach it in. He braces you against his chest with one arm holding you snug and secure while the other helps to prop you both up. With no hands free he’s left with no choice but to allow you to feed him, not that he minds at all. For every morsel that you offer him you get a playful flick of the tongue or a teasing nip of teeth against your sticky fingers in return. He keeps this up until his treat is gone, though he finds new ways to leave you breathless and giggling; the nose nuzzles and kisses that he presses into your neck and cheeks are muted by the scarfs that you both still wear but they send a small thrill though you just the same.

The sky’s gradual desaturation continues on while the pair of you bask in one another, fading from a milky indigo into a pale lavender before finally giving way to the white-cast light of an overcast day. You stay cuddled up for a while longer, passing the thermos back and forth as you watch the snow work at powdering the forest before you; the steadily collecting drifts softens the landscape, turning it into something worthy of a Robert Frost anthology.

It’s only when yawns turn to plumes of mist that you finally head back in. Your motions are played out in reverse until you’re once again lying on your mattress and watching the world through sheet glass and half lidded eyes. The man that is nestled in behind you mumbles something unintelligible in his sleep as he pulls you in closer to his chest yet again. You’ve no doubt that he has grand plans for the day that yet lies ahead, but for now he’s content to rest with his love and you are too.

## ✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:*:ﾟ*••:۞:••*ﾟ:*:ﾟ･✧*:ﾟ･✧

“So I was thinking–”

You don’t bother with looking up from the page you’re reading as you mutter out a quick, _“Oh no.”_

As expected Dick takes the playful jab in stride. “Whatever, babe, you know my ideas are _amazing._ That’s why I’m planning on inviting all of the little bros over for some family bonding time.”

“Hmm… Well it has been awhile since we’ve all gotten together to do something,” you agree as you make room for him on the bed. Your efforts are partly in vain as he chooses to lie on you just the same. With his head in your lap you’re compelled to set the book in favor of running you fingers through his cherub-like curls. He pushes into your touch like a cat, eating up the attention and sighing out his reply.

“Right? We can all chill out, literally, in all this fresh snow! Maybe build some snowmen, or have a snowball fight–”

“I’ve seen you guy’s so called ‘snowball fights’—that’s probably not gonna end well.”

“…Yeah, probably not,” he concedes with a half shrug, “but when has that ever stopped any of us?”

“ _Literally never_ , though I wish to god that it would…”

“Now you sound like Alfie.”

So the voice of dignity and reason then? You can live with that, and when you tell him as much he laughs loudly.

“Anyways, I already sent out the text so here’s to hoping they all show.”

“I’m sure they will, but…” You can’t help but to remember the less than optimum outcomes of previous attempts at getting all of the Wayne boys to play nice for any extended period of time. They all love each other, this much you’re sure of, but—“Why do I get the distinct feeling this isn’t gonna end the way you want it to?”

“Because it never does, but hey—at least it’s always fun! Er, well, _usually._ Providing nobody ends up seriously injured.”

“So minor flesh wounds are acceptable then?”

“They’re pretty much par the course so yeah.”

You roll your eyes at that. “You’re ridiculous…”

“True, but you knew that when you married me.”

Well he certainly has you there. Having no real comeback for that you settle for a kiss against outstretched fingertips. Given how this day is destined to end you figure you’d best enjoy the silence while it’s still yours to claim…


	2. Day One || Damian Wayne || Choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day One || Playing in the Snow  
>   
>  _In which you enjoy a quiet morning with your love._

It hardly comes as a surprise to you when you wake to an empty bed. More often than not this is the case for several reasons, not least of all because your bedmate is a vigilante. Being a Bat makes for odd hours, being Damian Wayne makes for even odder habits.

His penchant for meditation is one of the more conventional things he likes to get up to before the world’s fully awake, though the fact that he does so even when the snow is descending over the city like a sheet is a bit concerning. You have no idea how his metabolic processes are able to keep up with half of the things he does, though you wouldn’t be surprised to find that he forces them to do as bade through sheer will power alone. In fact you’re pretty sure that at the very least he has some type of deal struck with his hypothalamus—how else could he stand to perform tai chi on your balcony in nothing more than compression gear, sneakers, and a beanie? Though the wind doesn’t seem to be blowing, you’re apartment’s located on the building’s topmost floor. At these heights it’s more than cold enough to steal your breath and that’s before the season’s temperatures are taken into account.

You watch him work his way through various stances, admiring the control and the precision that fuels every movement. A steady stream of vapor flows from his lips as he recites a nuanced arrangement of mantras, tenants, and creeds; the words have been collected from many sources throughout the years, examined and refined to create a code of conduct that is all his own.

There’s no doubting that he can feel your eyes on him, but aside from an initial nod of acknowledgement he doesn’t divide his attention. Knowing that he’ll be at it for a while yet you go about readying yourself for the day. By the time you’re showered, preened, and dressed he’s perched atop the balcony’s railing like a cat. Even knowing the level of agility that he possesses the sight still leaves your heart in your throat. Almost as if he can sense your panic he plants his feet on solid ground once more, though his eyes never once leave the skyline of the city he’s given his nights over to.

Now that you’re no longer worried about him plunging to his death you’re free to carry on with the routine that you’ve since created for yourselves. As you start the various brewers up a sense of contentment settles over you and you find yourself leaning in to the repetition-based comfort like it’s the embrace of an old and cherished friend. So many people shy away from that word, _repetition_ , like it’s a dirty thing; in relationships some think it to be some sort of creeping stagnation, as if the mundanity is some gaping pit or a sign that the shared fire’s blaze has been reduced to a flicker. The pair of you, however, do not see it that way at all. You’re both busy individuals with lives that do not readily mix. Between work and school and vigilantism there isn’t time for things like hearts, romance, or love and yet you’ve found a way to make it work.

Your relationship with Damian is truly a choice—one steeped in love, yes, but a choice all the same. Every day you both wake up you _choose_ to stay together despite all that is against you.

You _choose_ to forgive the late nights and cancelled dates.  
You _choose_ to revel in the good times and to work through the stresses and strife together.  
You _choose_ to keep loving one another.

The love and care that you have for each other runs bone deep, and though it does not always manifest itself in more traditional ways it’s there just the same. In this moment it takes the form of steaming mugs prepared to specifications that few know. It’s felt in the gentle brushing of shoulders and the cool press of lips against temples. And when you tilt your head back to catch the icy flakes against your tongue you can hear it in the warmth of his rolling laughter as he watches your childish display.

It only takes a few words and a pouting lip to see him tipping his head back as well. Snow dusts the whole of his handsome face, collecting against the peaks and filling in valleys with its fluffy mounds. He deserves more moments like this, ones where he can be happy and silly and carefree. When the greatest voice of judgement and mockery lives in one’s own head it can be difficult to lower guards and drop pretenses. That Damian readily does so in your presence is testament to just how much he trusts you.

It’s another choice made, another sacred piece shared, another silent declaration of love and trust and care…

As you lean into one another, staring out into the freshly powdered city you both find yourself falling just that little bit deeper, harder.

The day will no doubt have its due, but this moment? This is all for you.

## ✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:*:ﾟ*••:۞:••*ﾟ:*:ﾟ･✧*:ﾟ･✧

“It seems as if we’re being summoned to the Manor.”

“Oh? By who?” you ask even as you worm your way under your man’s arm to get a peek at his phone’s screen.

“Grayson,” he tells you, as he angles the device towards you. “Apparently he thinks us all overdue for some scheduled family fun.”

You cut your eyes up at him with a smirk. “Oh darling, don’t act like you don’t love it.” The replying narrowing of his own jade orbs is belied by the affection that syurps behind them.

“…I’ll admit that I don’t exactly _hate_ it, but that’s as far as I’m willing to go.”

“Fair enough. So what’s on the agenda then?”

“I think he wants us to build snowmen? Either that or he’s been watching _Frozen_ again. More than likely it’s a mixture of both…”

“Yeah, probably,” you agree with a snort. “So are we going then?”

The sigh he lets out is a ponderous thing that trails off into a hum of contemplation. He’s silent for a beat, then two before finally nodding a bit to himself.

“I think we shall if only to keep Grayson from pouting. He can be insufferably persistent when he gets like this. Thankfully the trip won’t be a complete waste as I’ve other things to attend to there. I’ve still yet to thank Pennyworth for that tea he had delivered last week, and I need to get fitted for a new suit besides–”

“ _And_ you also miss spending time with your brothers— _time that **doesn’t** involve capes and villains._”

His huff of laughter is equal parts annoyed, resigned, and fond. “Yes, beloved, there’s also that.”


	3. Day One || Jason Todd || Be My Present to Help Me Forget My Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day One || Playing in the Snow  
>   
>  _Your words are a bouy, your very presence a beacon that guides him back into calmer waters…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _ **TW for some PTSD-vibes.**_  
>   
>  I wanted this to be super fluffy and cute, but like… I can’t just ignore his past trauma, ya know? Prior to being taken in by Bruce, Jason had a hard life and lived on the streets for a time. Winter is brutal when you’re homeless, so I can’t imagine that his connection to the season is a completely pleasant one. Things are—well not exactly resolved, but more or less temporarily worked through with lots of love by the story’s end. So yeah, if you’re looking for pure fluff, then head over to the other boys’ fics and save yourself a bit of heartache, but if you’re down for some angst then read on!

“Babe! _Baaaabe_ … **Babe**. Jason Peter Todd—I know you can hear me so get your ass up.”

When all you get by way of reply is a groan that sounds suspiciously like a string of profanities you know that more extreme measures are called for. There are several routes you can take now ranging from cutesy to downright annoying, and after a few seconds of internal debating you decide on something that falls somewhere in the middle. You move to lie on top of him, covering up as much of his tall frame as you can with your own, and giggling all the while.

For his part Jay sighs as much as your added weight allows before laughing a bit himself. He wraps his arms around your middle while you tuck your head into the crook of his neck. The tight space leaves your own breaths pushing back against your face with every exhale and you have to adjust your position so that you don’t accidentally smother yourself. If circumstances were different you would be more than content to lie like this with him for the rest of the day, but the mounds of icy powder that lay just beyond your apartment’s walls beckon like a siren song.

In the wee hours of the morning Gotham had received its first proper snow of the season and you couldn’t be happier. Up until now the sky has only yielded wintery mixes composed primarily of freezing rain with the occasional drift that was only considered snow in the most technical sense. The sleek white dusting that has since covered the city in its crystalline fluff is the only thing that makes the hellish cold of an east coast winter worth braving.

“Alright doll,” he starts around a yawn, “you’ve got my attention. What do you want?”

“I want you to get up, get dressed, and come play with me–”

“If you wanna play, honey, we can do that right here—no clothes needed.”

You roll your eyes despite knowing it will go unseen. “ _In the snow, Jason_. I want to play in the snow.”

“OoOoo. _Kinky_. I likes, I likes.”

“Oh my god!” You slap at his chest even as you huff out a laugh. “You’re such a perv!”

He shrugs, unrepentant and denying nothing. “But you knew that already. Just like _I_ already knew about the snow. _Patrol_ ,” he reminds you when you let out an indignant squawk.

You vaguely remember him mumbling something about _‘bullshit weather’_ when he slid into bed this morning, but given that he was clearly unscathed your brain hadn’t deemed his complaints important enough to register anything beyond that.

“Well if you know you should already be hyped! I mean, I get that chasing after baddies in the stuff isn’t fun, but– Jason stop snoring, I know you’re still awake.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I want to be,” he informs you, the words leaving him in a half groan. “Besides— _snow sucks ass._ It’s cold, wet, and just all around terrible. There is literally nothing to like about that shit.”

You sputter indignantly for a second, earning a cackle of laughter for your troubles. The glare you shoot him is playful and your smirk devious as you say, “Oh, so you want a Top Ten then?”

“ _Oh god._ , baby, _no–_ ”

“Number one!” you all but shout as you jut your arm up and away, your index finger raised to start off the countdown.

Though you feel him tensing up around your third point it isn’t until the fifth that your words trail off lamely in confusion to his reaction.

He’s steadily grown tenser as you’ve been speaking, his every muscle seizing until he’s as hard and unyielding as a slab of granite underneath you, and his disposition is just as chilly. His arms have fallen away from you, and you can just hear the sound of blunt nails scraping across the fabric of your comforter in time with his clinching fists.

Worry sets in fully now, and a quick peek at his face does little to elevate the feeling. There’s no pinching of brows or irritated pursing of lips to be found, only a deceptively neutral expression and eyes turned inwards—a chilling combination. You know this face, have seen it before during late nights or on long drives. It is one of contemplation, of remembrance of things that would be best left forgotten if not for the risk of repeating history.

Jason never talks about his past willingly, and you’ve never been one to push or pry. You’ve always figured that when he’s ready to share he’ll share, but in moments like these, when he’s gone into himself and is burrowing further still with every passing moment…

Well, sometimes he needs to be saved from his own mind.

Not in some big, drastic, life altering way—he’ll never take kindly to anyone trying to change him, be it for the better or not—but with a lifeline. A buoy. Something to help him keep his head above the suffocating thoughts that seek to drown him in things long passed. You offer this to him with the carding of gentle fingers through his hair and a soft kiss to his jaw. It takes the better part of several minutes, but you do feel his body start to relax. Eventually he takes a few measured breaths—in through the nose, out through the mouth like you showed him—before purposefully pushing the last bits of tension from his muscles. The entire process takes nearly ten minutes, but by the end of it all he’s wrapped you up in his arms once again.

His hands trace down the length of your spine, one after the other, only to follow the same path upwards; the movements are tight, controlled, and of far more comfort to him than they are to you. He needs to feel you under his fingers—alive and well, warm and safe. You’re his anchor in this moment, the only thing keeping him from drifting back off into whatever inner storm he just braved. You don’t try to speak as not knowing exactly what garnered such a reaction means it’ll be better to just wait him out. So instead you continue to rub at his scalp while humming a no-name tune under your breath. You have no idea how long the two of you stay like this, and between the lulling motions of his hands and the almost unnatural warmth that he radiates you soon find yourself dozing off. Just before you can succumb fully to the induced slumber, however, he speaks.

“Winters aren’t the same when you’re a street kid,” he starts, voice barely loud enough to hear. “When you look at snow you see something fun, something to play in, and that’s good. That’s _normal._ But when I look at it all I can see is just one more thing between me and survival. Winter was already hellish, but snow added a whole new layer to the fuckery and I just…” He shakes his head then, jaw working under clenching teeth.

“Jay…”

“I’m sorry babe, I’m not tryin’ to be fuckin’, I don’t know, _whiny_ or anything, but–” He pauses again, huffs out an annoyed sounding breath, then continues. “All I’m tryin’ to say is that I don’t have the best memories associated with the stuff. Even before all that shit I didn’t.”

You don’t expect him to elaborate on that last bit. If his time as a street kid is a sore spot then his childhood prior to it is an open, weeping wound. Like a doctor of a century long since passed, you’ve been helping him slowly drain it, but there’s so much poison in the pain there that it will be a long while yet before it can ever begin to fully heal. Though earliest bits of his childhood trauma are related to this, it’s only tangentially so, so you move past it without comment.

“What about after all that?” you ask instead. “You spent several years with Bruce and the rest—you must have at least a few good memories, yeah?”

“ _Ehhh_ …”

You give him a skeptical look. “Oh come on. I’ve heard the story about you bouncing a pinecone-spiked snowball off of the back of Dick’s head when he was showing off for Babs—he’s the one that told me, actually. You’re really trying to tell me you didn’t enjoy that?”

A reluctant chuckle escapes him at the memory, and the sound soon morphs into a full blown laugh as the scene replays itself in full in his mind.

Apparently Dick had been trying to impress Miss Gordon that day with some acrobatic feat or another and had earned a snowball to the dome for his troubles. This ended with the older boy on his ass and the other two laughing hysterically. From there things only devolved in the best of ways, with all three of them tossing snowballs at one another—all regulation, per Alfred’s demands—until they were left panting and sweating despite the temperature. It wasn’t until the sun had started to set that they were called in to warm up with steaming mugs and fuzzy blankets–

“–and on top of that,” he continues on, “Alfie had laid out fresh pajamas for us to change into. ‘You’ll catch your death in those sodden clothes, Master Jason. Do hurry up and change, the lot of you, so that we can start the film.’” It never ceases to amaze you how spot on his imitation of the Englishman is, not least of all because the refined cadence is almost the direct opposite of the thick Bowery accent that he usually sports.

“Of course being the asshole of a little brother that I was–”

“I like how you used the past tense there, that’s cute.”

He snorts at that before pointedly continuing, “–I wedged myself between Dick and Babs, but with karma bein’ the bitch that it is they decided to hold me down and forcibly cuddle me until the end of the movie—and _It’s a Wonderful Life_ **_is not_** a short film, doll.” Though his words are a lament, voice and expression both tell a different story; the memory is clearly a treasured one, though you know he’ll never willingly admit to that aloud.

“ _Oh god_. Did I ever tell you about that time Tim’s short ass walked into a snow drift and it just fuckin’ took him? Like he was there one minute and the next— _nothing._ All we heard was a scream and then he was gone. And then there was that time Bruce couldn’t stop falling down the stairs outside the Manor. Dude’s supposed to have all that bat-agility, but a little ice almost ended his whole damn career…”

The pair of you go back and forth for a long while, sharing stories and laughter until your eyes are leaking and your tummies are sore. At some point during the exchange you’d been forced to roll off of him, though Jason hadn’t let you get far; you end up beside him, tucked under his arm with your own slung over his chest. Your words have run low by now, with the last story having tapered off into laughter a while ago. Jay is once again lost in his thoughts, though these, you’re happy to note, seem to be far more pleasant than those he’d hosted before. Several long moments pass in a comfortable silence, with him running gentle fingers over your arm, and you just enjoying the feeling of being held by your love. When he looks over at you some odd minutes later there’s enough love and contentment in his gaze to leave your breath catching.

“I guess it wasn’t all bad after all,” he admits after a moment.

You nod at that. “It’s always easier to dwell on the shitty memories, I guess; makes it harder to remember the good times.”

“Very true.”

“So you wanna make some more? Memories, I mean— _good ones_ —with me?”

His replying smile is a slow, lazy thing that knocks years off of his face leaving behind the boy that had once upon a time donned tights and a cape. “Of course, doll, _always_ —but first…” His lips set themselves into a grin fit to rival that of the Grinch at his most devious before descending on yours.

He holds you close then, kissing you slow and deep enough to steal the air from your lungs, though he’s quick to replace it with the sighs and moans he breathes into your kiss. Your protests are half-hearted at best, with Jay’s reminder that _“The snow’ll keep”_ being all the rebuttal needed to see you yielding.

## ✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:*:ﾟ*••:۞:••*ﾟ:*:ﾟ･✧*:ﾟ･✧

“The fuck is that sound?”

You hadn’t noticed the noise before, but now that you’re more awake it’s all that you can focus on. It takes a minute for your sleep-addled brain to zero in on the source, though once you do–

“It’s your phone,” you half sigh, half groan as you burrow more fully into your man’s warmth.

His pleads for you to _“Make it stop, please”_ rumble through his chest to reverberate through your body. The feeling has the exact opposite effect, as it only makes you want to fall deeper into slumber.

“No you.”

“ _No you._ ”

“ ** _You_** _._ ”

“ ** _Yooooou_** _…_ ”

“Jason, I can barely feel my legs and your phone’s on the other side of the room. Both of these things are a direct result of _your_ actions. If you _think_ –”

“Alright, alright, _damn._ I’ll get it myself…” Chuckling a bit under his breath, he untangles himself from your embrace before slinking over to the still vibrating phone. As he scrolls through the texts he stretches out across the length of the foot of the bed.

“Ay, you still wanted to play in the snow?” he asks a few moments later.

You prop yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at him. Aside from some lingering grogginess he doesn’t seem nearly as opposed to the idea as he had been before. “…Mayhaps… Why?”

His reply comes in the form of him sliding his phone up the bed towards you. You pick up the tiny device, eyes quickly scanning over the open text thread.

**Dickhead** : ♫♪♩ _Do you wanna build a snowman~_ ♫♪♩  
 _Quality bonding time @ the manor!!!_ ☃️️❄️👏☕🍬  
 _We have hung out as a group in forever so pls come_ 👉👈  
🙏🙏🙏 😤💖💖😤

There’s a bit of back and forth between the eldest child and his little brothers, though you find yourself ignoring it in favor of critiquing Dick’s emoji usage. It’s about on par with that of a teenaged girl, but somehow he makes it endearing—to you at least. Jay is not at all amused by his brother’s texting etiquette.

“The emoji to word ratio in these texts is a little concerning,” you admit, laughing a bit.

“That’s putting it mildly.”

“A big part of why he keeps it up is because he knows how much you hate it.”

“ _I know._ It’s like trying to read hieroglyphics, and it’s annoying as _shit._ If I didn’t have you and Cass and Steph to translate I wouldn’t know what he’s trying to say ninety percent of the time. Dumbass’s not gonna be happy until I pop him one, I swear. And Tim’s no fucking better. When the Brat’s the most tolerable one of the bunch you know you’ve fucked up… Annoying assholes, the whole damn lot of ‘em.”

“Right. So you’re down to go, yeah?”

“…Yeah…”

Giggling a bit you type up a reply before relocking the phone and hopping out of bed.

_We’ll be there!!_ 💙💙💙

**Dickhead** : _!!!!_  
 _Jaybird! This is the first time you sent me an emoji that wasn’t some sort of profanity or an insult_ 😭  
 _I’m so happy!  
_ _So proud!!  
_ _So touched!!!_ 💕💕💕  
 _I’m gonna call you now so pick up, kay??_

The flurry of text-tones leaves your man groaning and you quickly pulling together the makings of an outfit. You know you won’t be able to escape the apartment completely, but you should be able to make it into the bathroom before he realizes what you sent–

“Why’s this asshole still blowing up my phone…? Now he’s calling. Fuck you callin’ me fo–? _Excuse me? I sent **what**?_”

–or not.

“Welp, gotta blast!”

Ignoring the way Jay growls out your name you dart into the next room, choking on your own laughs all the while. You can almost swear that you hear your boyfriend laughing as well, but that doesn’t mean you won’t be locking the door behind you.

“ _Goddammit_ babe, why would you–?! No, _no._ The hell I did! That was ! If you try to hug me, _on god_ I will end you, Dickbreath…”


	4. Day One || Tim Drake || You’re the Reason Why (We Can’t Have Nice Things)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day One || Playing in the Snow  
>   
>  _You don’t know why he’s this way, but you’re here for it._

“So tell me again, why is this a thing that you’re doing?”

“Don’t say revenge, Timmers, don’t say revenge–”

“ _…Revenge._ ”

“Alright, I’m outta here.”

You, your boyfriend, and his best friend all laugh at the _Simpson’s_ scene that you’ve accidently on purpose reenacted—though unlike Homer’s brain, Conner does not grab his things and float off. He does, however, hand Tim a welder’s torch without much more bidding than a vague hand gesture. That he’s involved in the madness isn’t at all surprising, though it is a bit concerning. He’s as entrenched in this damned prank war as the Wayne boys are, and has been since Damian had somehow managed to swap out the contents of his shampoo bottle with platinum blond hair dye some years back. With the Kryptonian peace…

Well it was never an option, not really, so you guess it’s whatever.

“You still haven’t told me what this thing’s meant to do,” you remind the pair as you continue to watch them work. The device looks like it would be perfect for a _Luigi’s Mansion_ cosplay—ya know, if the Poltergust 3000 was cobbled together from a leaf blower and other various bits of scrap.

When all you receive by way of reply is a set of matching Cheshire grins you sigh.

“Well at least tell me what it’s called?”

“The Bringer of Justice,” Tim says, voice distracted.

Con’s brow furrows at that. “I thought we were calling it The Summoning of Justice?”

“Bringing, summoning, _whatever._ Hey, pass me tha- Thanks.”

The level of synchronicity between them is impressive, and a little unnerving if you’re being honest. They move like two parts of one whole, as if they share a brain— _Or rather one singular brain cell_ , you silently amend. It’s the only explanation as to why they’re putting so much effort in to making something that’ll do so little. Knowing that you’ll get nothing else of worth out of them you leave them to their work, reminding yourself that they’re probably not making anything that’ll actually cause severe property and-or physical damage.

_Probably._

…Yeah.  
You highly doubt this is the outcome Dick was hoping for when he sent that text, though it’s more than likely what he expects…

## ✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:*:ﾟ*••:۞:••*ﾟ:*:ﾟ･✧*:ﾟ･✧

“Ah, it’s the lovely —always a pleasure to see you.”

You give the aging butler a warm smile as you greet him in kind, though when he asks you where your boyfriend is–

“Conner’s flying him and _it_ in.”

“‘It’?” he repeats, expression equal parts concerned and amused.

“Yeah, it’s this… launcher-contraption-type-deal? I guess? The most I’ve been able to gather is that it’s meant to even the score between them and the others by ‘raining down white hellfire from above’. They also wanted me to specify that said ‘white hellfire’ is of the snowy verity and not actual white phosphorous. I won’t ask why this distinction needs to be made.”

Though Alfred’s replying hum is short it somehow manages to relay an entire lifetime’s worth of exasperation. “I would say that this may be the answer to their blasted prank war, but that level of optimism isn’t becoming of a man of my years.” Though his words are a lament there is a measure of levity to be found in his tone.

When the man informs you that the other three brothers and their significant others have already arrived and are engaging in some ‘scheduled fun’— _“I believe Master Richard has orchestrated a snowman building contest, and as a result we will be having roasted potatoes with the evening meal instead of braised carrots.”_ —though you both know that that’ll be devolving soon enough.

“I’ll try to keep the collateral damage to a minimum.” Even as you voice the sentence you know that this degree of optimism isn’t befitting someone of your years either.

The scene that greets you upon exiting the Manor is one fit for a Hallmark movie. Three couples—all young, fresh, and ridiculously beautiful—enjoy the season’s offerings.

Jason and his love have seemingly given up on the contest as their snowman only sports a scarf, a carrot nose, and not much else ( _“Gotham minimalism,”_ Jay tells you, though you’re not entirely sure that’s a thing). They’ve opted to cuddle up on a bench, offering color commentary on the other two’s builds in between sips from a steaming thermos.

For his part, Dick and his spouse are only halfway through constructing their snowman; the base is done, as is the torso, but the head is little more than an oversized snowball at the moment. It only takes one look at the pair of them to know why. When one tries to start in on the task the other will swoop in with a flurry of kisses or a spontaneous back hug or something else equally sweet and distracting.

Damian and his beloved are likewise halfway through their build—which is more ‘beast’ than ‘man’. As Dames works on building the thing’s front half, his darling decorates the bits that are already finished. Black glitter—more than likely edible, because they value their lives too much to risk tracking the real stuff through the Manor—dots the snow in large swatches making their muse obvious. It’s Batcow. They’re making a Batcow out of snow because _of course_ _they are._ They converse in hushed tones, their words leaving a contented smile on the man’s lips.

The sight is peaceful, lovely–

“ _Revenge rides a pale Kryptonian!_ ”

–and unsurprisingly short lived.

Of course with Jason Peter Todd being who he is, he’s already making a quip before the flying pair is even within twenty feet of the ground. “Does know that you like to ride Conner? Or do you guys have some type of _menagé-a_ -three thing going on?”

He promptly takes a snowball—shot at a high speed and with no small amount of pressure—to the face for his troubles.

He blinks dumbly for a moment before wiping away the clumps of snow with one hand and calmly pushing the thermos into his lover’s grasp with the other. “Alright Tiny Tim, Rudolph the Red-Tights Reindeer— _it’s on._ ”

For their part, Dick and his love are both laughing their ass off as they watch the second Robin take two more shots in rapid succession, though their snickers morph into shrieks when Jay flings his snowman’s _whole ass head_ at his brother. The thing catches him right across the chest, exploding into several large pieces and a spray of now loose snow; the backdraft catches his fellow instigator as well, making them cough and sputter as they swipe at their now dusted face.

“Of course you realize that this means war?” they grit out as they glare at the much larger man.

“Bring it, little bit!”

To his credit, Jay’s bravado doesn’t waver even with the couple flings their snowman’s entire torso at him, though he does blanch a bit when they work to heft its rather sizeable base.

Clearly operating on the same devious wavelength as their man, Jay’s partner in mischief had taken cover behind the bench in the same moment as he’d left it. Taking full advantage of Dick getting blasted, they quickly set about rolling out a few snowballs, the largest of which is lobbed at Damian’s back. He stiffens as the snow shatters against his left shoulder blade before turning around and _glaring_ at his attacker. A lesser being would’ve been begging for mercy, but then again a lesser being wouldn’t have been crazy enough to aim for the former assassin in the first place (never mind their dating the Red fucking Hood). As it stands they cackle wildly before grabbing their remaining ammo and darting around the bench in search of a new source of cover.

“Beloved—protect the cow.”

“As if it were our first born.”

Despite their words, Dames’ beloved seems more intent on using the snow sculpture for shelter. You can see their hands working, and given the pressure that they’re putting behind their pats you know that their snowballs are gonna have a little extra bite; they’re quick and efficient, turning out nearly half a dozen balls in just under a minute. They say something in Arabic, pulling a vicious smile from their man as they split the projectiles between them.

With the pair of them in the fight things turn into an all-out war, and you can only be glad that no one has taken note of your presence yet–

**_Thwack!_ **

The surprise of being slapped with a snowball has you crying out more than the impact itself—that the hit comes from behind you makes it doubly unexpected. Your confusion morphs into betrayal when you turn to see that your accoster is none other than your own damned boyfriend.

“Couldn’t let you miss out on all the fun!” is all he says by way of explanation before he and his bestie are zooming off back into the fray.

Know there’s nothing for it now, you scrape a portion of snow off of the nearby banister, form it up, and give yourself over to the chaos.


	5. Day Two || Dick Grayson || A Virtue Worth Pursuing (Hurry Up and Wait)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Two || Cuddling by the Fire  
>   
>  _If there’s one thing he’s learned it’s that even when plans are waylaid, timing is still key…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Sorry for the wait, my good dudes, but having to put out several thousand words at a time is really taking it out of my atrophied writing muscles lol…))  
>   
> Did someone say _‘character study’? No?_ Well too bad because that’s what this turned out to be lmao. Catch me out here writing a nearly 1400 word HC that only vaguely relates to the prompt lmfaooooo… Don’t worry tho, it loops back around in the ficlet…

  * 🎄 I canon Dick as being the kind of guy that doesn’t do well with being static for too long. Even when he’s bone tired he still feels like he should be doing _something._ Don’t ask him what that something is because frankly he doesn’t know, but dammit he guesses he’s gonna find out.
  * 🎄 Once you come along he slows down considerably, though not immediately. 
    * 🌟 During those first couple of months he’s always whisking you away to one place or another. Galas, museums, the new aviary exhibit that just opened at the zoo… If either of you show the least bit of interest, or he thinks it’s something you’ll personally enjoy you best believe you’re going. At first you think he’s trying to impress you, but it quickly becomes apparent that this man does not know how to slow down—what’s more he has no idea how to relax, to just simply be. It’s kinda sad when you think about it.
    * 🌟 Oddly enough the closest he gets to any type of zen is when he’s doing detective work—be that officially or as Nightwing. Cases force him to focus his mind, to slow down so that no crucial detail is missed. Honestly this goes against his nature, but Bruce’s lessons are not easily shrugged away. Being a Bat does not allow for many personal comforts or freedoms, a thing that was hard learned by the lot of them.
    * 🌟 But anyways!
    * 🌟 Once it becomes apparent that he needs a bit of guidance in this department you’re more than happy to help him. The conversation kinda takes him off guard as he’s always been this way, and honestly doesn’t see what the problem is?? Like most of the Bats he takes his self-destructive tendencies in stride. They’ve all got that _‘What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Also bitch should’ve had better aim because now I’m pissed.’_ mentality. 
      * 🎁 Sure, people have been telling him that he’s burning both sides of the rope for years now, but he’s been at it for over two decades and hasn’t burnt out yet so what difference does it make? Though he doesn’t actively realize it, he bases a lot of his self-worth on how much he can do for others—not in a suck-up way, but in service as an officer, a Bat, a big brother, a son, a friend, and just a generally decent human being. If he’s not giving it his all at every turn then what the hell’s even the point?
      * 🎁 …And okay– Maybe part of him _does_ need others to like him. He’s so used to being a means to an end that he’s actually devalued himself in his own mind. Even with those he knows loves him most he sometimes feels like a tool. A thing to be wielded against familial issues and the general unpleasantness that having so many prominent personalities in one space oftentimes brings (being the most emotionally mature person in your family is a struggle, truly). If he’s not being useful, if he’s anything less than the shining star they all view him as, he feels like he runs the risk of being cast aside. 
        * ❄ It really doesn’t help matters that he still kinda low-key feels like Bruce replaced him. He knows that isn’t the case, not really, and he loves all of his siblings, but _damn dude_ , you hardly wasted anytime getting yourself a new Robin, now did you? Doesn’t help matters that Bruce sidelined him not once, but _twice_ , with the final time being indefinite. Looking back on it now he knows the man was just scared and trying to look out for him, but… Look, dude has abandonment issues, okay?
      * 🎁 This mindset bleeds over into everything, resulting in his _‘Gotta go fast!’_ habits, and self-sacrificing ways. There’s little he won’t give to those who he loves and cares for and-or feels responsible for. Given that he’s both a cop and a vigilante—well I’m sure you can see how that won’t end well for him.
      * 🎁 It’s even worse when it comes to you. He gives his all in everything he does and your relationship is no exception, in fact he goes at it twice as hard as he _**will not**_ risk losing you. If he gives Gotham a hundred percent then you best believe you’re getting fifty, no five hundred, _no_ a fucking _thousand times_ that. 
        * ❄ He doesn’t have too much time to spare, and what little he does have he devotes to you. He wants to make as many memories with you as possible, as he knows how precious the things are. Memories are all he has left of some of the people he most cherishes; they help to keep him warm when life forces you apart and he hopes that they provide you with the same sort of comfort in turn.
      * 🎁 He holds dear every moment you share, be them quiet or boisterous, but at the same time he feels like he’s failing you somehow if he isn’t taking you out to do something. Does this make sense? No, and part of him knows that, but…
      * 🎁 Like I alluded to before, Dick’s used to people wanting something from him. His prestige, his money, his looks, his mind, his time—it’s always some _thing_ , they rarely if ever just want _him._
        * ❄ Prior to being taken in by Bruce he lived in a rather insular community. The people of the circus were like one big family; there was no need for manipulation or machinations, they all shared what they had freely with one another. Dick carried this open-handed approach with him even after settling into his new life and it ended up with him getting taken advantage of a lot. Eventually he learned how to spot the phonies and users, but it was a long hard road to get there. He knows that you’re different, that you see the man and not the title/clout/loot, but subconsciously he’s still waiting for his used to run out; eventually you’ll get tired of him and his baggage and move on like the rest.
      * 🎁 So on top of his near incessant need to always be moving, he is indeed trying to keep you interested though this isn’t something he actively realizes.
      * 🎁 Though he may be a bit resistant at first, he will listen to you when you tell him that it’s okay to take it slow from time to time. Others before you have said the same thing, but it just hits different when it’s coming from you. He knows that you care for him deeply, maybe? even?? love him??? Just a bit, ya know like the way he’s kinda-sorta very much head over heels for you. Is it too early for that? He doesn’t know, maybe this is just one more thing that he’s speedrunning, but he can’t bring himself to regret it—to regret anything that comes to you.
      * 🎁 There’s very little that he won’t do to keep you happy, so if you want him to slow down then dammit he’s gonna do it. _Somehow._ He loves you, but decades long habits are hard to break.
    * 🌟 It’s a gradual thing that takes effort on both your parts. When he suggest going out to see that new movie and grab a bite to eat afterwards, despite the fact that he looks like he needs to sleep for the next ten thousand years, make a counter offer of ordering in and binging that show you’ve both been wanting to see. Bat stuff weighing too heavy on him? Pull him into your arms and wile away a few hours just listening to each other’s heartbeats and breaths. Read to him on rainy days, invest in a puzzle or several, count stars and watch sunrises, put on some lofi and just _be._
      * 🎁 Things like this will only make him love you more as it’s apparent that you care about _him._ That you want _him_ to be okay, that _his_ comfort and well-being is just as big a priority to you as yours is to him…
      * 🎁 God is it too soon to propose? He doesn’t think so, but he’ll wait, just to be sure the timing’s right for both of you…
  * 🎄 _Waiting._ _Huh._
  * 🎄 He doesn’t actually hate the idea of it anymore, in fact he’s gotten pretty darned good at it.
  * 🎄 _So imagine, if you will…_



## ✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:*:ﾟ*••:۞:••*ﾟ:*:ﾟ･✧*:ﾟ･✧

“Guess who just got the whole entire weekend off?”

Dick sing-songs the question as he slides over the side of the couch. The awkward move is made graceful by his natural agility, his gymnast’s poise lending an effortless to it that many would find enviable. You raise your arms to make room for him, and once he’s settled you waste no time in threading your fingers through his curls. The feeling of your nails raking lightly over his scalp leaves him sighing and you smiling like some lovesick fool as you watch him nuzzle into your touch like an overgrown cat.

“It wouldn’t happen to be the ridiculously handsome man I have lying in my lap, would it?” you say as you continue to work at transforming coils into waves.

“Got it in one, love! And when I say _the entire weekend_ , I mean it—my days _and_ my nights are free and clear. No Bat stuff, no cop stuff, just you and me whatever it is we decide to get into. It’s gonna be great!”

Had this been the Richard John Grayson that you’d met just over two years ago now, the declaration would’ve been followed up with a string of plans and outings, but the man that currently lies in your lap is content to just be in this moment with you. It had taken him a long while to learn how to savor life instead of living it at a breakneck speed, though once he started he learned to love the reprieve. Of course this doesn’t mean that he’s completely done away with his tendency to over-activeness—he still has far, _far_ more energy than most people you know—but rather that it’s been downgraded from a destructive compulsion to an occasional indulgence.

You haven’t the faintest idea what this weekend will have in store for the pair of you. Maybe you’ll go out and paint the town, maybe you’ll finally get around to decorating your apartment, or maybe you’ll just laze around for the whole of it and eat like trash pandas. In the end it doesn’t really matter what you decide to do, so long as you’re doing it together it’s bound to be amazing.

## ✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:*:ﾟ*••:۞:••*ﾟ:*:ﾟ･✧*:ﾟ･✧

The snow had lost a lot of its appeal once it started to become an inconvenience. Commuting in the near freezing temperatures is far from pleasant, and that’s saying nothing of the dangers. When black ice and falling icicles are a bigger issue that the flavor of the week villains then you know things have gone too far in the wrong direction weather-wise.

Seeing no point in braving the elements when you’ve already got everything you need right here at home, the pair of you decide to flip the outside word the bird for the next forty-eight hours.

The first ten are spent sleeping, with the next one after that being dedicated to necessities like basic grooming and eating. You catch up with each other over your morning meal before deciding to tend to the apartment next. Though it’s tempting to put off your chores, a voice that sounds remarkably like Alfred’s silently reminds you that if you get it done now you won’t have to contend with it later.

Once the dishes are done, the floors cleaned, and the laundry folded the pair of you part after a fashion. Though you share the same space you’re each doing your own thing. Neither of you are doing anything particularly impressive—Dick’s finishing up some book that he’s been trying to get through since the beginning of the month, while you’re noodling around on the web—but it’s nice all the same. The grain of the paper dragging against itself with every page turned, the soft click of your fingers against the keys, the occasional huff of laughter or annoyance as one of you runs across something worthy of a reaction—it’s a domestic love song in its purest form.

A little bit before the sun starts to set in full Tim’s sending out a text to the brothers’ group chat. The invite to _‘come get whooped on’_ in _Smash_ is extended to any who wants to join, and while you know your chances of actually beating him aren’t the greatest, you’re not about to let that hubris-tier fuckery ride.

Naturally you get your shit rocked, but still—it’s the principle of the thing.

“I think I’m gonna call it for the night,” Dick half laughs, half groans as he watches his beloved Kirby bite it in a flash of light and failed glory.

_“Tired of getting your ass handed to you?”_

The third Robin’s taunt leaves the originator laughing loudly as he tells him, “Yes, very much so.”

For your part you had thrown in the towel several rounds ago, though you’d kept your headset on so as not to miss the smack talk that the brothers traded. Like you, their lovers came and went throughout the three hour long session, with the lot of you eventually putting down the sticks altogether in lieu of watching the vigilantes go at it. Skill levels become irrelevant when playing against the four of them, for no matter how good any of you were you would ever have the reflexes of a Bat. It makes playing just about anything—from rock, paper, scissors to next-gen shooters—against them frustrating as hell, but spectating’s always fun.

You all say your goodbyes, and then Dick is shutting down the Wii. With its input source removed the screen is left to display the standard message; the white of the text doesn’t do much to illuminate the space, but you’re fine with that as starting at the bright flashes of the game has left your eyes a bit sore. The low light does nothing to diminish your man’s sight apparently, as he crosses over to the console table to deposit the controllers and headsets without so much as grazing a toe against the coffee table. He collects your phones next, connecting them to their chargers before turning on the electric fireplace’s display.

He doesn’t speak when he joins you on the couch again, choosing instead to pull you into his lap. He tucks you in close, wrapping both arms and legs around you in a position that would be somewhat awkward if you weren’t used to it. In one of the weirder late night conversations that you had, he once told you that he wouldn’t mind overmuch if you got hit with some type of power that turned you into one entity–

_“I mean like, it wouldn’t be practical or probably all that enjoyable, honestly, but… Is it weird that I want to be just that close to you?”_

_“Honestly? Kinda,”_ you started, laughing a bit, _“but also I get it, so that makes it okay.”_

He’d been (mostly, like ninety-seven percent) joking then, but in the here and now he certainly seems to be trying to make good on his words. Toned thighs flex a bit from where they’re wrapped around your frame while his arms keep you cradled against his chest; you’re basically wearing him like a really weird backpack, but again you’re used to it. Neither of you bother with words for a long while, they’re not needed when you’ve got heartbeats and steady breaths serving as your soundtrack.

Eventually the flatscreen shuts itself off leaving behind only the flickering of the faux fire. Seeing no reason to fight the drowsiness that has been slowly encroaching on your consciousness, you cuddle deeper into the embrace but before you can give yourself over to your dreams Dick moves. Your slurred hum is met with a peck to the temple and a promise that he’ll be right back. When he returns a few moments later he doesn’t sit beside you as you expect, but rather he perches himself on the edge of the coffee table. When you arch an eyebrow at him he just smiles a bit and shakes his head as he reaches out for your hands. Your breathing quickens a bit as you place your palms against his.

This feels… _different._

The atmosphere is charged with some strange energy that hadn’t been there before, and while part of you—the part that dreams of altars and vows and futures—thinks that you know why that is you don’t dare to hope, not until he speaks.

“You know, I’ve been waiting for the perfect time to do this, and honestly I’m not sure if this is it, but I can’t wait any longer. Patience has never been my strong suit, as you well know, but being with you has made me better in that department…” He sighs then, the sound wondrous as he looks down at your now tangled fingers. “Honestly you’ve helped to make me better in so many ways. I didn’t even realize how much I was lacking, that there was some crucial part of me missing until you came along and filled it in. And you didn’t even have to _try_ , that’s the wild part– Your existence is just… _God._ You’re so damn amazing, love, in every conceivable way. You change things just by _being_ and I’m so lucky, so blessed, _so every good thing imaginable_ for having you in my life.

“At this point I don’t even know what a day would look like without you in it in some capacity. When we’re apart for too long I ache— _literally ache_ —from missing you so much. It’s like my heart, my body, my everything doesn’t know how to function when you’re not near. I know that sounds low-key, high-key crazy, but it’s true. I can carry on and make it through, obviously, but I always feel like I’m at my best when we’re together. I don’t know what I would do if I ever had to let you go, and… Well I’m kinda hoping that I never have to find out…”

Even with that lead up, your breath still catches in your throat when he pulls a little velvet box out of the pocket of his sweats. You look from it, to him, and back again with wide, watery eyes. Dick’s eyes are shining similarly as he flips the lid. The flat metal ring is only noticeable because of its contrast to the fabric around it. Its featureless surface is barely able to catch the dim light; there are no jewels, no etchings, no _anything_ , but the lack doesn’t stop it from being the single most breathtaking ring in the world.

“So I uhh, I got you something,” he starts, laughing a bit. “I know it doesn’t look like much, but that’s just because it’s a basic band. I thought we could design them together—that’d be fun, right?”

“‘Them’? As in plural…?”

“Oh yeah! I got one too, see?” He produces a second box, this one a deep wine color where the one meant for you was indigo. “The little bros told me it was silly and ‘highly unorthodox’”—the pitch of his voice tells you that the latter comment had come from the youngest Wayne—“to buy myself an engagement ring too, but I honestly don’t care. I want the world to know I’m yours just as much as I want them to know you’re mine and this is the easiest way to show it. Though if you’re not opposed I’m more than willing to shout it from the top of the WayneTech building, in the middle of the mall’s food court, over the loudspeakers at the stadium—really anywhere I can feasibly get away with it.”

You both laugh a bit at his antics, though Dick abruptly stops when he realizes that he hasn’t properly asked for your hand yet. He quickly drops down to his knees and takes your hands yet again before saying, “, baby—you are my better half, at least sixty percent of my impulse control, and most importantly the love of my life. The day I met you was the day the universe changed completely. You’re the sunlight that wakes me every morning, the stars that watch over me when I’m patrolling the streets instead of sleeping… God, I swear that some days it feels like you’re the very air in my lungs. My world is brighter, _better_ , for having you in it, and if you’ll have me I’d like to stay by your side forever.

“So, my love—would you maybe be willing to trade in your last name for mine? Or I could take yours, or we could work out some sort of hyphenated-type-deal, though that’d be pretty long for me seeing as how I’ve already got two surnames, but if you wanna add a third I’d be _so_ down. Richard John Grayson-Wayne- has a pretty nice ring to it–”

You silence his panicked babbling with a laughter laced kiss. You can feel him smiling into the ministration, though when you mumble your answer against his lips—“ _Yes, you absolute and perfect dork,_ ** _yes_** _.”_ —he begins to tremble. Dick all but collapses against you as he gathers you up into a tight hug. He kisses every bit of your face that he can reach, telling you all the while how happy you’ve made him, how he promises to always do right by you, and how he’ll make sure that your marriage is as amazing as possible.

He showers you in affection for a few moments more before calming some. His forehead comes to rest against yours as he says, “Guess this was the right time after all, eh?”

“The perfect time,” you agree.

“Good.” He leans in to give you a lingering kiss before pulling away with a chuckle. When you ask him what’s so funny he just shrugs. “Turns out the elusive ‘they’ were right. Patience really is a virtue worth pursuing… ”


	6. Day Two || Damian Wayne || Alone Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Two || Cuddling by the Fire  
>   
>  _The only thing he values more than his privacy is you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Sorry for the wait, my good dudes, but having to put out several thousand words at a time is really taking it out of my atrophied writing muscles lol…))  
>   
> Another batboy, another psyche to delve into lol. At least the HC for this one is shorter, that’s good, right? Idek anymore man, just take this thing from me before I try to rewrite it again. Honestly this installment is closer to what I intended to write for these prompts. (Relatively) short HCs/fics, that are fully of fluffy sweetness with a touch of humor, but we can’t always get what we want ig lol…

  * 🎄 Definitely the traditional type when it comes to a lot of things. 
    * 🌟 Now this isn’t to say he’s inflexible, or that he’ll try to foist any roles on either of you. He does have a preference for a more… let’s say ‘classical’ relationship, but who you are as a person, how you identify, or anything along those lines has no bearings on this. For him it more so translates to his behavior towards you.
    * 🌟 He grew up on old Hollywood glam era movies—think Cary Grant, Gregory Peck, Clark Gable, Humphrey Bogart, etc.—and he always found the romance portrayed there to be charming (if a bit dysfunctional). Having nothing else to go on this kinda became his foundation for what romance should look like. As he’s gotten older his viewpoint has likewise matured, but he cannot fully shake his tendencies towards those old world relationships. He always strives to be a gentleman, to affect that suave, charismatic, and at times somewhat impish mien. 
      * 🎁 It’s not exactly surprising that his mind latched on to these movies in such a way, I think. I mean, look at the adults in his life. His mother spent her time pining after his father who didn’t seem like he wanted anything to do with her as a _person_ most of the time, let alone a romantic partner. Said father’s playboy persona saw him running through women faster than Tim through Red Bulls during finals week. His brothers all had their own emotional hang-ups and his friends (his _real_ ones, not the silver spoons he entertained to keep up appearances) were either just as stunted as he was or so far removed from him personality-wise that he felt as if he couldn’t glean too much from them.
      * 🎁 The most steady person in his life has always been Alfred. The dad to out-dad all dads, a true gentleman through and through. Damian has always admired the way the older man carries himself; somehow he always manages to stay in his lane while also making himself heard. There’s a core of steel behind all of his words, and yet people don’t bristle when he speaks, his aura is suitably commanding but not intimidating (unless he _wants_ it to be, in which case _watch out_ because homie is ex-MI5). Dames has no idea how he does it, but he’s been doing his best to imitate him for years now. The gentler, more tactful parts of his personality/mannerisms definitely come from Alfred (and a little bit of Dick as well, though he’d rather choke than admit to that aloud lol).
    * 🌟 Catch him out here holding doors for you, pulling out chairs, standing whenever you enter a room and the like. If it bothers you he’ll definitely cut back, so no worries there, but I feel like if you’re in a relationship with him then you probably adore these quaint little traits. I mean who wouldn’t want to be treated like royalty 24/7? Especially when the person isn’t putting on airs—that’s just Damian Wayne being Damian Wayne and I personally think it’s great.
  * 🎄 Anyways!
  * 🎄 His preferences oftentimes see him whisking you away when the holidays roll around. 
    * 🌟 Though it isn’t always apparent, he loves his family, honestly and truly, but what he has with you hits different. He’s so greedy for you, your time and attention, that it honestly scares him sometimes. It can’t be healthy, the way he wants to monopolize your every waking moment, but he figures that so long as he doesn’t act on it (too often) he can be excused. After all you’re… _Gods_ , he’s not sure that even with his expansive vocabulary he has the words needed to adequately describe just how wondrous he finds your very existence, which is further testament to just how amazing you are.
    * 🌟 But yeah, whenever a major holiday comes up he does his best to spend as much time with you as possible. He wants to make memories with you, ones so cherished that you want to recreate them over and over again until they become tradition. And he wants them to be _yours_ —as in made and solely shared by the two of you (and any babies, be they furry or human, that you have may between you). Of course you still do things with your families and friends, but trust and believe that you’re also spending a fair amount of time with just you and yours.
  * 🎄 His schedule being what it is you’re not always able to get away from Gotham, but when you can— _oh_ ** _BOY_** _._ Homie goes all out, no expenses spared.
  * 🎄 He has definitely rented out an entire ski lodge before (and by proxy the mountain range attached to it) lmfao. 
    * 🌟 Yes, this ended up with his brothers and friends tagging along because _“–dude you just rented_ ** _a whole ass mountain_** _! We’re gonna help you get your money’s worth.”_ And _“I’ve seen_ ** _Scooby-Doo_** _. No way we’re letting the two of you go up there alone—that’s how people get murked by a caretaker with a limp and grudge.”_
  * 🎄 _So imagine, if you will…_



## ✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:*:ﾟ*••:۞:••*ﾟ:*:ﾟ･✧*:ﾟ･✧

> [Here’s the accompanying album](https://youtu.be/lhuapGdI3OA), if you’re that way inclined.

The swell of strings fades out into the sputtering pops and skips of a vinyl that has come to its end. Neither you nor your man move to rectify this, knowing that the old floor model hifi will switch over to the next record soon enough. In the meantime you’re left to enjoy the sounds of the lodge around you. The faint tinkling of snow where it strikes the oversized windows, the sight creaks and groans of an aging building standing firm against the elements, the crackle of the fireplace before you, and the heart that beats steady underneath your resting head…

It’s a lullaby that you could stand to listen to forever, though Lady Ella seems to have other plans.

The needle drops and within seconds the standard’s rich voice is filling up the space with her crooning words. As she bids the snow to keep falling, you snuggle deeper into Damian’s embrace. The hand that rests on the swell of your hip squeezes a bit in acknowledgement before its thumb resumes its slow glide over the cloth there. You sit like this for a long while, happy to just enjoy each other’s company. Conversation ebbs and flows, lapping against the ambiance like a tide, cresting against the fire-warmed air with waves of laughter that dissolves and fades into contented sighs.

It’s only when the music switches over to something slower that Damian stirs. He takes you with him as he rises, keeping you close with a hand pressed to the small of your back while the other tangles itself with your own. He takes you up into some approximation of a box step, swaying you in time to the drum’s beat. He lends his voice to the melody, singing of enchanted stairways and traveling with you to the heavens above, though the passion that burns behind his eyes—so visceral and all consuming—tells you that he’s already found the only hereafter that he cares to know–

Right here, in your arms, in front of the fire’s glow.

## ✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:*:ﾟ*••:۞:••*ﾟ:*:ﾟ･✧*:ﾟ･✧

**_Meanwhile, outside of the lodge…_ **

“I cannot believe that little shit locked us out.”

“Stop being so dramatic, he only locked the doors to the lounge–”

“Which is the quickest way to get out of, and more importantly, _into_ the lodge!”

“The main doors are still a thing, you know.”

“Yeah, but they’re _all the way over there_ …”

“And whining about it isn’t gonna change anything. The sooner we get walking, the sooner we get warm.”

“Honestly I don’t know what you guys expected, we did kinda very much so impose on his trip…”

“For his own good! Look at this place, it’s friggin’ huge! I’m telling you, places with this combination of space, age, and isolation are just murder mystery headline generators in a parka.”

“‘Murder mystery headline generators in a parka’– _**Bruh** , your **mind** …_”

“…That may be true, but this is _Damian_ we’re talking about here. Dude was trained by a cult of assassins _and_ Batman—I don’t think it’s actually possible to get the drop on him.”

“Either way this is some Grade-A bullshit. When I get inside I’m gonna–”

“ _You’re gonna_ come warm up with me, love.”

“…yeah, sure— _definitely_ , doll—but _afterwards_ –”

“We’re all gonna watch Christmas movies and eat our weight in sugary trash.”

“Hells yeah, bro. I call dibs on the watch list!”

“No complaints here, well so long as we don’t have to watch _Die Hard_ –”

“ _Umm_ , we most assuredly _are_ watching _Die Hard!_ It’s a holiday classic!”

“ _ **Die Hard**_ _is_ _**not**_ _a Christmas movie, Tim._ ”

“Not with that attitude it isn’t. And can I also say that coming from the ten of you, that level of synchronicity was both impressive and mildly terrifying? Congratulations and never do that again.”

“Well now we gotta.”

“ _Operation: Freak Timmy-Boy Out Via Vocal Coordination_ is live! Erm, sexier name pending.”

“I hate you all.”

“ _No you don’t!_ ”

“Are you guys serious right now?”

“ _Yes!_ ”

“ _God_ ** _dammit_** _…_ ”


	7. Day Two || Jason Todd || It's Always the Little Things…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Two || Cuddling by the Fire  
>   
>  _Somehow he always knows what you need…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Sorry for the wait, my good dudes, but having to put out several thousand words at a time is really taking it out of my atrophied writing muscles lol…))  
>   
> More character studies because why the fuck not? ~~there’s so many reasons ‘why not’, with the main one being no one asked for this shit lol.~~ Don’t worry, there’s some destressing fluff to be found after my wordy af HC. That’s always a good time, yeah?

  * 🎄 So if you’re actually living in a place with an actual fireplace I think it’s safe to say you’re p. deep into the relationship at this point. 
    * 🌟 Like _‘adopting a pet and-or a human-type child, possibly married if that’s your bag’_ -levels of into it. If you’ve purchased a legit house (or super high end apartment or whatever)… Well, he would never make such a huge commitment with someone who didn’t own his heart completely, never mind attempting to make a home with them.
  * 🎄 Being together for as long as you have you’ve picked up on two major traits that aren’t as readily apparent to people outside of those he considers family. 
    * 🌟 One: Jason is a big ol’ introvert. 
      * 🎁 This isn’t at all surprising to people inside the family (or the fandom, for that matter), but to those outside of it—well Jay is certainly the kind to never show his belly. Anything he perceives as weakness is stamped out with swift and excessive force. Growing up in the shadow of Richard John Grayson (aka angel face perfect child, aka literal human sunshine, aka one of the biggest extroverts to ever grace this planet) he always felt some kind of way about not being able to interface with others the same way his big brother could.
      * 🎁 He couldn’t put people at easy with his broken smile, was never able to use a well-placed word to garner affection and trust. So instead of trying to be like Dick, he decided early on to play the role of the lone wolf; it was an easy enough role to step into, all things considered. He made himself into something remote and unapproachable, like an uncharted island or a distant start, though for the people who were bold enough to go for it anyway he was all cocksure smiles and cutting confidence. It’s bravado, the lot of it, but people only ever see what he wants them to see, he’s made sure of that.
      * 🎁 He doesn’t know if his loner tendencies/social awkwardness is a result of nature or nurture, and in the end he figures that it doesn’t really matter either way. He is what he is, and while he may not be the best person in the world he certainly isn’t the worst. Love him or hate him, he’s always gonna be who and what he is—it’s one of the few things he’s got some confidence in and we love to see it.
      * 🎁 But yeah, his whole badboy, devil-may-care persona is just that— _a persona._ He learned a lot sitting at the feet of the Big Bat, though no lesson stuck quite so well as that of changing faces. He slips between masks almost as effortlessly as Bruce himself, going from the big bad Red Hood, to someone that’s mostly fit for high society with all its many social graces, to the trolling brother, to your adoring s/o without so much as a blink. He’s like a diamond in that way, full of facets that can only ever be seen when tilted just the right way. These personas are all a part of him to an extent, he just plays up whichever one will best suit the current situation. 
        * ❄ Want an oldhead bop that kinda covers this concept? Listen to Billy Joel’s _‘_[ _The Stranger_](https://youtu.be/E5ofVsxTPoc) _’_
      * 🎁 Ofc the quote-unquote ‘real’ Jason is a snarky little shit like 78% of the time, make no mistakes about it, but there’s a softness there under all the layers of sarcasm and mildly malicious, oftentimes self-aimed humor. The list of people who he ever shows this side to is short to the point of nearly being nonexistent. You, of course, are at the top of said list—honestly, some days you’re the _only_ person on it. 
        * ❄ It should also be said that that self-aimed humor doesn’t always translate as depreciating. He’s got a dark sense of humor so once you’re aware of it, expect to hear jokes related to his death if there’s a good set up for it. If this type of thing bothers you he’ll refrain from doing it in your presence, but he’ll definitely be thinking it lol.
      * 🎁 But I digress, so let’s move on to point two which is–
    * 🌟 Jason is a nester. 
      * 🎁 We already know that his life before adoption was hellish, so I won’t get too into that now, but suffice it to say he places a bigger emphasis on the value of home and hearth and all that represents than what most others do (or what they would probably ever expect from him).
      * 🎁 For a long while he denied himself certain comforts, feeling like they could be taken away from him at any moment. Just as he was starting to truly settle into the idea that he not only could have nice things, but that he also _deserved_ them The Incident™ occurred. ((I trust that you all know precisely what incident I’m referring to))
      * 🎁 In the time since moving back to Gotham and settling down he’s been steadily recovering, though given everything he’s been through it’s slow going. Having such a dedicated support system in his family, friends, and later you has helped tremendously. He’s not sure that he’ll ever get back to a hundred percent—hell, he doesn’t even know what that looks like, if he’s being completely honest—but he’s content with striving to better himself every day. Some days he makes leaps, while on others he barely moves an inch, while others still see him regressing several steps, but he’s determined to heal—for himself, for you, for everyone who has continued to stand by his side despite the things he has forced them to endure, and to very pointedly spite everyone who said he never could. (( ~~he loves his haters, they give him LIFE lmao~~ ))
  * 🎄 Anyways! He’s not one for too much clutter, though he does like a space to feel lived in. This mostly manifests itself in the form of candids of your families and friends, with a few plants, knick-knacks, and other various odds and ends that you’ve amassed throughout the years.
  * 🎄 The one thing you do have in abundance, however, is comfort items. 
    * 🌟 As the pair of you steadily transformed your house into a home, you both started to notice his fondness for the things. Sherpa blankets, fuzzy socks, every form of loungewear and pjs known to man, overstuffed pillows, even down to your bed (which no lie, took him several month’s worth of research and testing to finally settle on)—if it can make the space feel cozier, or aid the pair of you in having a good cuddle session he’s here for it.
  * 🎄 Between these two factors it’s safe to say that you have the coziest home out of all the Bats.
  * 🎄 Pillow forts are a thing he’s never really gotten over. 
    * 🌟 At first he’d always write it off as his way of entertaining others’ tastes— _“If my doll wants to get cozy in a pillow fort I’m gonna build ‘em a goddamn pillow fort”_ or _“I only did it to shut my idiot man-child of a brother up.”_ —though as he’s grown older and more comfortable in his own skin he doesn’t care to hide the fact that he loves them shits. He likes what he likes, and anyone who has a problem with it can ~~catch these hands~~ fuck off.
  * 🎄 _So imagine if you will…_



## ✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:*:ﾟ*••:۞:••*ﾟ:*:ﾟ･✧*:ﾟ･✧

Your day has been, in a word, _hell._

There isn’t any one major event that tanks it, but rather a series of little things. A minor inconvenience here, a rude person there, a spilled drink, a papercut, a misplaced item—one after the other, they build up-up- _and fucking up_ until they finally reach a critical mass that has you all but running to the nearest bathroom. You’re a shaking mess by the time you shut yourself away in a stall, breaths coming staccato and eyes stinging with the beginnings of tears. You allow yourself a few good sobs before forcing yourself to calm once more. You’re an adult, _more’s the goddamn pity_ , and so you’ll act like one. You gather your courage, stilling your mind and fixing your face as best you can, and after a few shaky breaths you're squaring your shoulders and getting back to it.

Somehow you manage to make it through the rest of your afternoon without having any more breakdowns, though the universe certainly seems set on testing your resolve. On your way home you call up you man, needing the dose of serotonin that hearing his voice never fails to bring. Naturally your own betrays you; it only takes hearing the first syllable of your despondent greeting for Jay to know that the day has taken it out of you.

_“Don’t you worry about a thing besides getting yourself home to me, baby. You’re free tomorrow, right? Good, that means any work you have can fuck off ‘til then.”_

Though that annoying part of your brain that constantly demands for you to push forward is protesting loudly, you ignore it. Self-care may be a thing that you struggle with from time to time, but you’ve since learned that working yourself into the ground won’t do you any good. You _do_ deserve a break, no matter what external or internal sources may say, and Jay seems intent on making sure you get it as even your offers to pick up something for dinner are quickly shut down.

_“I told you doll, I don’t want you worryin’ about that shit. I got dinner and anything else you need—I got_ **_you_ ** _.”_

His tone brokers no arguments, not that you plan on giving him any.

He stays on the phone with you through the whole of your commute talking about everything and nothing. Topics range from how much he’s enjoying rereading _Little Women_ despite know it’s gonna break his heart, to the video Kori had sent him of Roy trying (and utterly failing) to do some new TikTok dance, to the shenanigans your pets had gotten up to while you were away. All the while you can hear him shuffling about, though every time you ask him what he’s up to he just gives you’re a cryptic little _“You’ll see when you get here.”_

Your curiosity has you hastening up the driveway’s length once you finally make it home. This is the first time you’ve felt something other than muted despair all day, with the general feeling of excitement and well-being that replaces it being a much welcomed change. If you’re being honest this is probably the best you’ve felt all week.

Upon keying in the first thing you register is the smell. The nuanced notes of home combines with the rich, warm scents of one of your favored comfort meals. There’s no way Jay would’ve had enough time to prepare it before you arrived, so he must’ve placed the order online while you were talking. Homemade or not, the gesture leaves you melting all the same.

It’s always the small things that really get to you, you find. A sappy text here, an adjustment of your clothes there, the flash of a smile, fingers that trail along the lines of cheek and jaw… You don’t know how he always knows exactly what it is that you need, but you feel beyond blessed that he does.

Jason greets you at the door not even half a minute later, emerging from the oddly lit living room off to your left. Now that you think about it, the whole house is pretty dark. This isn’t too unusual as when he’s home alone Jay rarely has on more than a few lights at a time, if any at all, but still… There’s something about the golden-hued light that strikes you as strange. At first you think he’s lit the fireplace, but the glow isn’t quite right. You don’t have too much time to think on it, however, as a large, calloused hand is tilting your head upwards for a long and heated kiss. After he releases you, he helps you out of your coat and boots before shepherding you up the stairs and into your bedroom.

A bit more of your bad day falls away with the shedding of your clothes, the heavy fabrics being traded in for something softer and far more comfortable. The last lingering vestiges are washed away with the cleansing of your face, and by the time you reemerge you’re feeling like a completely new person. Jay is waiting for you at the foot of the stairs, and once you’re near enough he extends a hand.

“You’re too damn good for this shit show of a world, doll, you know that?”

His question is rhetorical, its sentiment one that has been expressed dozens, if not hundreds of times over the years he’s known you. Any response you might’ve been ready to offer devolves into a squeak of surprise as you’re swept off of your feet. Though you’re more than used to such displays, any time Jay lifts you like you weight nothing—well it’s a good thing you’re not currently responsible for keeping yourself upright. Of course the cocky asshole knows exactly what he’s doing to you; his smirk is extremely self-satisfied as he cradles you princess style with _one fucking arm._ You brace yourself against his broad chest, narrowing your eyes all the while, though there’s no real heat behind the motion and you both know it.

“Unfortunately there’s not much either of us can do about the state of things,” he continues on as he heads towards the living room, “not that I haven’t been trying, mind you, but the universe is hella resistant to change.”

“Saving the world does seem a lot easier than trying to change it,” you agree.

“ _Ain’t that the fuckin’ truth?_ This world will never be good enough for the likes of you, people will never fully realize how damn lucky they are to know you even in passing, but… Well I may not be able to make this place worthy of you, but I can at least give you this.”

Suddenly the room’s strange glow makes sense.

A last minute transformation has rendered your living room nearly unrecognizable. Tapestry-like blankets hang from the ceiling in a row, dipping low enough that Jay has to duck his head so as not to get tangled up in them. The translucent material makes it easy for the dim glow of the fairy lights that sit on the other side of them to be seen. The effect is like that of a hundred distant stars twinkling overhead. Posts follow the billowing fabric’s path, starting on either side of the doorway and stretching out to just beyond the couch. You now recognize both them and the cloth as being from the large open-faced tent that you never got around to setting up over the summer, and the stringed lights that are draped between the poles are from the same failed endeavor. Though most of the space outside of this cocoon of light and fabric is unchanged, within it things seem cozier, more intimate, a feeling that the crackle of the fireplace helps to facilitate.

Your commute takes the better part of an hour, but that hardly seems like enough time for him to have done all of this and yet…

“You like?” he asks as he gently deposits you onto the sofa. He plops down beside you with far less care, though when he pulls you into his side he goes right back to that porcelain-touch that he so often uses when handling you.

“I _love_ ,” you amend, “all of this and you.”

His reply comes in the form of another breath stealing kiss, though before things can get too far he’s pulling away.

“We can save the rest of _that_ for after we eat,” he tells you, though the roughness of his voice tells you that stopping is the absolute last thing he wants to do.

Determined hands don’t let him get too far. You latch on to his shirt as you push yourself more firmly against him, invading his space until you’re able to mutter your rebuttal right against the bow of his mouth. “And if I said I wanted to have my dessert first?”

You can feel his smirk as it forms in real time. The sharp stretch of it parts around his reply— _“Trust me babe, you’re gonna need the carbs.”_ —before pouting up into a kiss once more.

Not his smoothest line, but the implications leave heat rising in your cheeks anyway. For his part Jay just waggles his eyebrows as he hands you a loaded plate. You laugh at the display, but then he’s purring out his next sentence and you nearly choke on your own tongue.

“ _Eat up, doll…_ ”

God, three simple words— _one single man_ —really _should not_ be this damned sexy, shit’s not fair…


	8. Day Two || Tim Drake || Old Peeps Roasting on an Open Fire~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Two || Cuddling by the Fire  
>   
>  _You probably won’t need the fire extinguisher this time. **Probably**._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Sorry for the wait, my good dudes, but having to put out several thousand words at a time is really taking it out of my atrophied writing muscles lol…))  
>   
> And the unwanted character studies just keep coming! Such complicated boys, our dear Bats…

  * 🎄 Tim is one of those people who doesn’t realize how touch starved he is until you’re nearby.
  * 🎄 You don’t have to be actively be touching him or close enough to do so, hell you don’t even have to be in the _same building._ It’s like once he knows he’s gonna see you his skin is set aflame, his nerve endings flayed. I know that sounds unpleasant, and it kinda is low-key, but he’s learned to love the burn. His not getting to see you as often as either of you would like only compounds things so that by the time you’re actually slated to see each other he’s half insane with his desire to hold you. 
    * 🌟 If you’re a friend that has turned into more things are even worse lol. Once he acknowledged his attraction to you dude spent so much energy on making sure that he never touched you in a way that could ever be mistaken for inappropriate; this p. much led to him barely touching you at all for a long while as he just couldn’t for the life of him get his shit together. It was a bit jarring for you both as while he wasn’t overly feely, he never had a problem with casual touches before. Once he saw how the change was negatively affecting your relationship he pulled himself out of his head enough to start (mostly) functioning like a normal human being in your presence again.
    * 🌟 Once you finally got together it was a complete 180 from your platonic days. Casual touches all day, errday. _And hugs._ So many damn hugs—from the front, the back, the side, from above, below, _whatever._ Any configuration that allowed him to wrap you up in his arms he would gladly take. He spent so much time denying himself, so you best believe that he’s gonna indulge now that he can (*insert obligatory—‘ _Only if you’re okay with it!!_ ’—here*).
    * 🌟 It’s so damn cute to witness, but like grossly so. Catch Connor, Dames, and Jay making gagging noises whenever they see you two being all lovey-dovey (it’s one of the few things this trio ever comes into agreement over lmao). On the opposite end of the spectrum is Dick who is _living for this do you hear me??_ He’s been shipping the pair of you from jump, and he’s just so glad to see that his babies now know happiness—he’s not cryi– okay he’s _totally_ crying, but that’s okay because he still cute and so are y’all…
  * 🎄 Anyways!
  * 🎄 As a result all of all this your dates always and inevitably turn into cuddle sessions (which do oftentimes lead to more as he’s not at all shy about acting on his wants—again, providing you’re on the same page). 
    * 🌟 Are you complaining? Idk man, I don’t know your life like that, but I would think that you aren’t because this man has cuddling down to a science. He knows just how to position you both so that you’re always comfortable; limbs rarely grow numb and somehow you’re always able to see whatever screen you’re watching without straining yourself—it’s witchcraft, you just know it is.
    * 🌟 He also always has the best snacks on deck. Lbr—homie would eat like a trash panda 24/7 if he could (he kinda still does on occasion tbh). Now that he’s older he does have a diet that he mostly sticks to and an exercise regimen from hell that has somehow managed to get more strenuous over the years, both of which are readily used to justify his less healthy dining habits. But dude’s such a hypocrite because he won’t let you eat yourself silly. He’s not the type to control your diet or anything, you’re a grown ass adult, but he’s also not gonna just sit there and watch you give yourself a tummyache either, ya know? _‘Everything in moderation’_ , that’s what he always says—that and _‘Do as I say, not as I do’_ lol.
  * 🎄 As you progress in your relationship that near manic edge that had colored your early interactions is tempered, though he’s still big on touch. He always likes to be in some sort of physical contact with you if it’s at all possible. You don’t have to be laying on top of one another (though he’ll never complain if you do indeed want to use him as a body pillow), he’s revels in the slight brush of arms that are busy working at your respective tasks while you sit together, the press of your shoulder blades against his as you sit back to back reading, the hooking of ankles around one another as you share a meal… 
    * 🌟 As I said in a [fic of mine](https://thepuckishrogue.tumblr.com/post/180968622841/the-batboys-in-im-late-take-one), quality time is the most prominent of his love languages. I know that seems to go against what I’ve been saying thus far, but follow me around the room with this. As precious as touch is to him, it’s time that he’s most obsessed with. It always seems to get away from him, and as of yet there’s no way for him to get it back or make more of it. Time with you is even more fleeting, or at least that’s the way it seems. When he’s holding you his need for touch is sated, but how long will it last? When will he be pulled from your arms indefinitely—or god forbid, you be taken away from him somehow? He’ll always fight to keep you both safe, but he knows he’s not infallible. So whether you grow old and gray together or he falls victim to Gotham tomorrow he’s gonna make sure that whatever time he has to give is offered up to you freely and without hesitation.
    * 🌟 On top of all of that, Tim’s a v. busy guy, one that’s always having more things shoved onto his plate (if he doesn’t serve himself) than what he can feasibly get done with the hours allotted to him. Somehow he always makes things work, but this usually means that he has to sacrifice in other areas. Because of this a lot of his previous relationships—both romantic and platonic—oftentimes suffered to the point of ending. You’re one of the first people that has been able to put up with the madness that is his life for any extended amount of time.
    * 🌟 Like the rest of Bruce’s misfit toys he has abandonment issues, so he figures it’s only a matter of time before his absence outweighs any charms you perceive him to have. Though he refuses to think too long on you ever coming to harm, your leaving him is something he can picture with stunning clarity. In his mind it’s an inevitability, a set event that can only be delayed for so long. He’s selfish enough to hold on to you until then, even though he knows you’d both be better off if he pushed you away sooner; the longer you’re together the more feelings there will be to get hurt. He’s pretty sure this makes him some sort of emotional masochist, but whatever. He’s cool with it ( ~~he’s really not someone help this man~~ ).
    * 🌟 You eventually get through to him, the specifics of which are a HC for another day. Suffice it to say it involves you just _being there_ —staying when others would leave, extending understanding and grace when he feels he doesn’t deserve any. Above all else Tim both needs and craves some sort of stability and you give him that. 
      * 🎁 This’ll sometimes leave you at a deficit, but no one ever said that loving a Bat is an easy task. Your relationship will never be completely normal and you’ll have to make concessions that others with a more conventional partner would never even have to consider. The good thing is that Tim (just like all his brothers) will always meet you halfway whenever he can, and if he can go the full hundred percent or beyond you know he will.
  * 🎄 Anyways!
  * 🎄 Because of how much he loves touching you, the colder it gets the happier he becomes. A dip in the temperature provides him with the perfect excuse to keep you close while you’re out and about—he can’t be having his little love bird getting cold, now can he? 
    * 🌟 Expect lots of adjustments to your clothes and outwear. It’s one of the subtler ways that his love manifests itself; he wants to take care of you always, and if that means he’s gotta pull up your scarf every five minutes because it won’t stop slipping down then dammit that’s what he’s gonna do. And if you turn that shit around on him? DED. His soul has left his body and his heart feels like it’s gonna pound straight through his ribcage and out of his body. _Omg_ you’re so damn soft for him and he’s so soft for you! _What the_ ** _frick_** _?!!_ Why are you so cute and amazing and _ahhhHHhhHhhh~_ (yeah, his brain turns straight to mush, but like mush that’s running a mile a minute lmao **)**
    * **🌟** Being the homebody that he is means lots of nights spent in year round, but the low temperatures give the prospect even more appeal (to him at least, if you like being out in the cold he’ll certainly oblige you, he’s pretty neutral when it comes to weather in general so long as it’s not too extreme and-or he doesn’t have to worry about doing his patrol in it).
    * 🌟 Getting cozy with you under some blankets with a grip of snacks and something good to binge? _Hells yeah._ Chef kisses all around because that’s some prime date night material right there—hell, that’s the peak of existence tbh.
    * 🌟 You wanna swap out the show/movie for a fireplace and just talk/chill/whatever? He’s down for that too! Your being together is the most important part of the equation, everything else is just a rad ass bonus.
  * 🎄 _So imagine, if you will…_



## ✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:*:ﾟ*••:۞:••*ﾟ:*:ﾟ･✧*:ﾟ･✧

“ _Old peeps roasting on an open fire, Timmy-boy screaming ‘Oh god nooooo~!’_ ”

“Seriously babe, you too?” Tim sighs from across the room. He’s been prodding at the glowing logs for the better part of several minutes in an attempt to make sure the fire won’t go out once its left to its own devices.

You reply comes in the form of a cheeky grin that morphs into a few air kisses. Though you can barely be seen with the way you’ve burritoed yourself in blankets, you know he can hear the exaggerated smacking of your lips.

For his part the man just snorts out a laugh, rolling his eyes as he turns his full attention back on the hearth. “I’m never gonna live that one down, huh?”

“Probably not, no,” you agree, laughing a bit, “but I mean I played my own dumbass part so…”

It had been a nuanced combination of boredom, _‘Why the fuck not?’_ -levels of curiosity, crackhead energy, and most importantly a several month old box of Peeps that had led to the unfortunate event in question. Roasting the little sugar-covered marshmallow shouldn’t have been any more precarious than roasting one without the added layer of sweetness, but then Tim had let his skewer get just a little too close to the flame. The resulting fire probably wouldn’t have been so bad if he hadn’t tried to put it out by shaking the stick instead of blowing on it like a normal person. The confection’s center was gooey enough that it dislodged itself, flying far and fast thanks to the intensity of Tim’s waving, and landing in Connor’s open backpack. From there things only got worse as the Kryptonian had a roll of tissue as well as some other extremely flammable items in there and well…

The resulting fireball was a pretty shade of red at least.

In trying to make things better you’d only managed to make them worse as the blanket you threw over the flames was an acrylic blend that caught fire itself almost instantly. In the end Connor _‘It’s my turn with the singular brain cell we all apparently share’_ Kent was the one to put out the blaze, though not before a tree (or several… and a sizeable patch of grass… and Con’s sleeping bag… and the stuff for the s’mores that was sitting on top of said sleeping bag… and half of the tent…) got scorched.

That had happened when you were all in your early teens, and had resulted in you being banned from camping without adult supervision pretty much indefinitely. Even now, with you all being grown ass adults, the others like to teasingly threaten to come along whenever any of you mention spending any time in the great outdoors. It had come as no surprise that they’d all started it back up when you and Tim said you’d be spending some time up at the family cabin this weekend. The cabin that is out on the lake that is very much in the middle of the woods that are very much flammable— _“You two sure you don’t want to take Connor along? Ya know, just in case?”_

Memes abounded, roastings were had, but what really took the cake was Bruce’s contribution. His text was succinct, only being long enough to tell you where all the fire extinguishers were located, but really that was enough. The pair of you had sent him a picture once you’d gotten settled in; it was a parody of one of those old family photos from back in the day, with you sitting in a chair, fire extinguisher cradled in your arms like a newborn babe and Tim standing behind you tall and proud. You both have your best _‘It’s picture day and mama said these pictures better look good or that's my ass’_ smiles on as you stare at some unseen point off to the side. He had left you on read for the better part of ten minutes before replying with _‘The three of you make for a beautiful family.’_ It was as much an admission of amusement as the man ever gave.

In the now your metal child sits beside the coffee table, well within reach should you for some reason need it. Not that you anticipate actually having to use it, mind, but better safe than sorry…

Once the blaze is properly stoked you man joins you on the sofa with a sigh. He wastes no time settling himself amongst the mass of blankets, pillows, and snacks that share the space with you. That this ends with you mostly draped across his wiry frame is unsurprising, if very much wanted—he likes to keep you close after all.

The show that you’ve been binging is resumed with a few taps at the laptop that’s balanced precariously on your legs. Yes, you could just as easily avail yourselves to one of the cabin’s many TVs, but there’s something about having to squint down at the small screen that makes your chests tighten. There’s a nostalgia to be found in it, one that takes you back to a simpler time when you were both just two kids that were hellbent on denying their feelings but drawn together all the same. It reminds you of every co-op body fueling session that was _so_ not a date, every stolen glance and lingering hug and that first awkward press of lips against wind chapped lips…

“God I love you so much.”

“You know I love you, right?”

Your declarations are spoken at nearly same time, a thing that leaves you both laughing as you verbally trip over each other for a few more sentences.

“Okay, wait, we gotta get this right,” you manage around a giggle. “On three, kay? One, two, three–”

“ _I love you._ ”  
The synchronicity displayed is only topped by the sincerity of the delivery.

You tilt your head back to look up at the man whom your heart beats for. The love that syurps behinds your eyes is reflected in kind, with so much purity and absolute truth it actually makes you ache. When he repeats the sentence it’s against your lips. He slurs it over the breadth of your jaw, nipping and sucking until he can breathe it against the shell of your ear.

The show is soon forgotten, the laptop tucked away someplace safer as you both find a much more pleasurable distraction in one another…


	9. Day Three || The Batboys || Mall Madness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Three || Getting Lost in the Mall  
>   
>  _Shopping with this lot is never boring, at least…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We got one big batch of HCs this time around, folks. Honestly I cannot imagine these boys getting lost anywhere as relatively small and full of landmarks as a mall. They’re too well trained for that type of foolishness lol. But for the sake of the HC I shall make it a thing…  
>   
> Also!  
>   
> Merry Christmas to those that celebrate, and a very happy holidays to those that don’t! I know that this time of the year can bring out the worst in people as well as our psyches, so remember to do what you can when you can to keep yourself whole and happy today…

## || Jason Peter Todd

> _This… got a lil bit sad. Again. I’m so sorry lol. I love Jay, I truly do! He’s actually my favorite out of all the boys, which leads to me delving deeper into who he is as a character and given all he’s been through… Well dude’s a walking angst factory if I’ve ever seen one. That being said…_
> 
> _TW for mentions of a panic attack, though I don’t go into great detail about said attack. I more so touch on helping him to work through it and the aftermath, and even that’s not super detailed. If you want to skip that bit, it starts and ends with the bells (🔔)._

  * 🎄 Out of all the Bats, Jay’s probably the got the most chill when it comes to shopping.
    * 🌟 He’s got his list—which is p. short as he’s already bought most of his gifts months ago—so everything’s cool.
  * 🎄 He’s v. flexible, able to adapt to any shopping style.
    * 🌟 You more of a mission based shopper that likes to get in and out? Give him half of your list and send him off to hunt that shit down for you. Also keep your phone handy in case he needs to hit you up for some clarification.
    * 🌟 On the opposite end of things, you like to go in and just wing it? He’ll use his detective prowess to help you analyze any recipients you may be having trouble with picking something out for.
    * 🌟 If you’re one of those people who gets easily distracted he’ll either help you stay on task or go off on a tangent with you depending on what you want to do.
    * 🌟 You wanna touch all the things? He’ll only stop you if it looks like you’re gonna break something lol. And if you do he’ll pay for it with minimum grumblings on his part, though he will tell you that you need to be more careful in the future.
  * 🎄 Doesn’t tend to get bored too quickly as he enjoys people watching. He’s so damn tall that he can easily see over most displays, and thanks to his dip in the Pit his hearing enhanced*. If he focuses he can listen to the argument that a couple is having three aisles over or the total meltdown that somebody’s brat’s having over not getting whatever toy it is that they want lol. If you want he’ll gladly narrate the goings-on for you.
    * 🌟 *I have no idea if that’s canon or not; but like I personally give anyone’s who has been inside of a Lazarus Pit freaky good reflexes and sensory intake.
  * 🎄 More than okay with being a pack mule if you need him to be—after all, all those muscles gotta be good for something.
  * 🎄 Also okay with being left on a bench somewhere with your haul. Again, people watching’s his jam and this gives him ample opportunity to indulge.
  * 🎄 But that’s all only tangentially related to the prompt so let’s move on…
  * 🎄 As far as getting lost in the mall… That shit would freak him out big time. He’s a former Bat, the fucking Red Hood. He _does not_ get lost…
  * 🎄 …Well until he does, clearly.
  * 🎄 Depending on the headspace he’s in this can go one or two ways.
    * 🔔 If he’s already feeling stressed for whatever reason getting lost will freak him out as I’ve already said, though to a much greater degree. His anxiety will spike, potentially throwing him into a full blown panic attack.
      * 🎁 If you’re with him, try to pull him off to somewhere less crowded. A bathroom is one of the better options, though if you’re not allowed in the men’s room a dressing room will do as well. Walk him through some breathing exercises as those are the most effective coping method for him, and just stay with him until he calms.
      * 🎁 Once he’s a bit more stable get him home asap. Plot out the fastest route to the nearest exit and find your way back to your car from there; he’ll be better off walking outside in the open air than trying to fight the crowds.
      * 🎁 He’s gonna be feeling p. fragile for a bit afterwards, so be sure to love on him as much as he’ll let you. He’s probably not gonna want to talk about it, not that there’s much to say. You both already know about his anxiety and the potential that crowds have to set it off. Stuff like that’s easier to deal with when he’s in vigilante mode, but when he’s just Jason he finds that he’s not always as strong as he wants to be.
      * 🎁 If you’ve managed to get separated… that’s just not gonna end well. _Like at all._ He’ll focus all of his anxiety into finding you, and getting in his way is not at all advisable. Once he finally locates you, you’re going home. Full stop, that’s it, drop whatever it is you’re holding unless you plan on stealing that shit because you’re leaving _right the fuck now._
      * 🔔 He’s not trying to be controlling or anything, he’s just freaked the fuck out. He needs to get back to a space where he can feel comfortable and in control of his emotions again, and ofc he needs you to be there with him.
    * 🌟 If he’s in a better headspace he’s gonna be annoyed more than anything.
      * 🎁 How tf did he let himself get lost? And in a mall of all fucking places. Disgraceful, truly.
      * 🎁 If there’s one available he’s gonna pull up a map on his phone to help orient himself, and barring that he’s gonna look for one of those directories that most malls have on a wall or stand somewhere—or at least they used to have them. I haven’t been to a mall in ages (the one in my city is p. empty so I do my shopping online) so idk if this is still a thing.
      * 🎁 Anyways!
      * 🎁 He is not above asking a guard or store employee for help, esp. if you’ve somehow gotten separated from each other. Your safety (and his sanity) comes well before any pride he may have.
      * 🎁 Expect him to bitch about the whole ordeal for the next several minutes (seriously, how tf did he get lost???!) He’s also gonna want to hit up the food court as he feels like he’s earned a snack after all that fuckery lol.
  * 🎄 So overall he’s an excellent shopping buddy—10/10 would bring along again. 



## || Richard John Grayson

  * 🎄 Dick strikes me as the type to absolutely love shopping.
  * 🎄 When it comes to giving, a big part of his love language is, well, _giving._ He loves to see the look on someone’s face when they open up a gift that he’s made or purchased just for them.
    * 🌟 Definitely a master gift giver. He uses his Bat skills as well as his natural intuition to pick out the perfect gift without fail.
    * 🌟 You mention wanting a certain thing—that thing will be in your possession within the next 24-48 hours.
    * 🌟 Thought you were about to run out of coffee/toothpaste/whatever? Not on his watch. You’ll find a replacement there waiting for you, one that you know you didn’t buy as you were gonna do that later on today and yet here it is.
    * 🌟 He doesn’t wait for a major event to dictate things—if he wants to give you something he’s gonna give you something. Your smiles are so damn precious to him, they give him life, so anything that he can do to induce them is being shamelessly replicated.
    * 🌟 And he never expects anything in return. He’s doing this because he loves you and he cares and he just wants you to be taken care of.
      * 🎁 I see all of the boys as being providers. They’ve all got their reasons for wanting— _needing_ —their sweetheart to be well taken care of.
  * 🎄 Anyways!
  * 🎄 Malls are him jam. They give him a lot of options without having to go to a hundred different locations.
  * 🎄 He usually already has a good idea of what he’s gonna get, but he loves to window shop, so be ready for that lol. Dude has stamina _for days_ so if left to his own devices he’ll be bopping around for hours without ever thinking about taking a break.
    * 🌟 If you can’t hang that’s fine! More than fine _—“Honestly, babe! Why didn’t you say something sooner?”_
    * 🌟 Whenever you want/need to take a break just tell him and you’ll find the nearest bench or food court to rest up in.
  * 🎄 He’s definitely the type to view getting lost in the mall as a mini-adventure.
    * 🌟 He doesn’t get lost very often, and unless he thinks the circumstances/location is sketch he’s actually p. happy about it. He loves to explore and this is just one more chance to do so.
    * 🌟 If you get separated, _however_ , he’s gonna flip his shit trying to find you. Catch him out here having mall security scouring the building for you and-or making intercom announcements lmao.
      * 🎁 When you finally come together again he’s squeezing the life out of you. Meanwhile you’re hella embarrassed and confused, but trying to comfort him just the same. Embarrassed because _obviously_ —you got dragged back to him by security like some wayward child; confused because I just went to get a pretzel did you not hear me when I said that??
  * 🎄 Whether you’re lost or not, expect lots of shenanigans to ensue.
    * 🌟 He’s so the one to get in the display windows and model with the mannequins. Dude better be glad he’s cute and loaded or else that shit would not fly.
    * 🌟 He does the same thing with floor displays—and has knocked a few over as a result. Again, it’s good that he’s as fine as he is rich lmao.
    * 🌟 Has legitimately made sells for associates who he saw was struggling.
      * 🎁 That commission based fuckery is total and utter BS and we all know it. He can’t change the system, but he can certainly game it. If he, a ridiculously attractive rich boy, can get another rich ~~asshole~~ person to buy something in order to help out someone with less means you bet your sweet ass he’s gonna do it.
      * 🎁 Also doesn’t stand for people abusing staff. None of them are here for that mess. In fact, there are entire YT playlists dedicated to all of the Bats giving rude customers and shitty managers the business lmao.
      * 🎁 Some of the greatest hits include:
        * ❄ _Dick Wayne says ‘Not Today Satan’!!!_
        * ❄ _good guy jason todd wants to help us to eat the rich and he’s starting with this b*tch_ 😘😘
        * ❄ _The Damian Wayne Death Stare™ (bad manager regrets everything lmfaooo)_
        * ❄ _Did T-Wayne really just give this man a job?? (watch til the end- You Will CRY)_
        * ❄ _Bruce Wayne LEGIT BUYS A MACY’S JUST TO FIRE THE MANAGER!!!_
    * 🌟 Will model silly outfits for you (that he somehow manages to pull off no matter how outrageous they are) and will encourage you to do the same. Who doesn’t love an impromptu fashion show?!
      * 🎁 So many people, Richard. So many, _many_ people… lmao.
  * 🎄 Given that he’s one of Gotham’s most beloved sons being followed by the paps is an unfortunate side effect of going to such a public venue with him.
    * 🌟 Thankfully they keep their distance for the most part. Dick may be all smiles and sunshine, but the minute he feels like you’re being made to feel uncomfortable or into a spectacle then the fangs are coming out.
    * 🌟 He has this way of politely telling people to fuck off that somehow manages to convey the potential for pain without crossing any lines. And he does it all with these empty eyes and cold smile and yeah—needless to say folk have learned to keep their distance lol.
    * 🌟 That being said there’s dozens of videos of you two online. They mostly feature Dick doing something silly and you either joining in or holding your head in your hands as you watch your man-child’s foolishness unfold lmao.
  * 🎄 Overall he’s a p. fun shopping buddy. A bit on the sillier side so I would personally give him an 7.5/10, though if you don’t mind that he’s a solid 10/10 for sure.



## || Damian Wayne

> _I briefly allude to some fade to black action, like **v. briefly** , but I figured I’d add in this heads up to anyone who may want it._

  * 🎄 Damian Wayne is a man on a mission. Things need to be bought and this task will be seen through with all due efficiency…
  * 🎄 …When he’s alone anyway. If he’s got company he’s got the social grace to take things at their pace.
  * 🎄 Like Jay he’s able to go with the flow, though if I’m being honest he’d be happiest with someone like-minded.
    * 🌟 He personally has never really seen the appeal of shopping. Yes, he likes nice things, but honestly? If they could just appear in his closet/office/wherever else that’d be great.
    * 🌟 For this reason he does most of his shopping online, but sometimes you need things faster than what even overnight shipping can provide and-or the internet fails you by being sold out and that’s when you have to turn to physical stores.
    * 🌟 All that being said if you want to go shopping for clothes he’s more than happy to do so. He fancies himself a fashion icon—which, honestly? _Fair e-fucking-nough._ Dude’s always clean as hell. He likes to look his best, but even more so he loves to see you all dolled up. He has a particular weakness for eveningwear, but really anything can be made divine when it’s displayed on a frame as beautifully wondrous as yours.
      * 🎁 Will totally help you find your style/what fits your body type best if you’re in need of assistance.
      * 🎁 Will also insist on you modeling your purchases for him, though this’ll be done in the privacy of your home which is honestly for the best as this usually ends with him deciding that your outfit looks better off than on in fairly short order.
    * 🌟 But no matter what it is you’re shopping for he’s not gonna make you feel like a burden or anything. He agreed to come along and he’s not gonna let his preferences spoil your trip. He’ll be as attentive and engaging as you need him to be, so much so that you’ll probably never know how much he dislikes shopping until you hear one of the others comment on it.
      * 🎁 Tim: _“You guys went shopping again? This is like, what? The third time this week, right?”_
      * 🎁 You: _“Yeah, well there was a sale and I still had a few last minute gifts to pick up so…”_
      * 🎁 Tim: _“Huh. He must really love you. Like really, **really** love you.”_
      * 🎁 You: _“Umm, **excuse**?”_
      * 🎁 Tim: _“You know that D hates shopping, right? Like despises it with a passion. It’s why he orders so much stuff online, why you get your groceries delivered… Did you seriously not know?”_
      * 🎁 You: *surprised Pikachu face*
  * 🎄 Also an excellent gift giver though for different reasons than Dick.
    * 🌟 The exchanging of goods for services rendered is one of the few things he truly understands. He’s well aware that love isn’t based on checks and balances, but you gotta remember where homie’s coming from. He may not always be able to return your affections in a more traditional manner (esp. in the beginning of things) but he still wants to make sure that you know you’re appreciated. Gifting you an item isn’t exactly equal, he knows that, but sometimes it’s the best he can do.
      * 🎁 That this often translates to you getting some ridiculously extravagant items should not be surprising. After all he’s trying to match your _love_ with an _object._ It’s never gonna be a one to one, but dammit he’s gotta let you know just how much he appreciates and reciprocates your feelings for him _somehow._
    * 🌟 Eventually he learns _*cough* ~~from watching Dick~~ *cough*_ that little items can have just as big of, if not a bigger, impact as any precious jewel.
      * 🎁 Expect to start receiving things like refills of your favorite tea/coffee/or whatever it is you drink and other thoughtful things. Also little things that reminded him of you when he saw it, as well as stuff he thinks you’ll like but probably won’t buy for yourself.
      * 🎁 He’ll still get you big ticket items, but they’ll become less of the standard and more of a special thing (but still v. much a thing that happens like at least once a month because he’s got the loot and who gon’ check him?)
  * 🎄 As far as getting lost in the mall—it just doesn’t happen, sorry. I cannot think of any circumstances that someone as highly trained as Dames would ever get lost somewhere so relatively small and full of landmarks as a mall (esp. if it’s one you frequent).
    * 🌟 Like yeah, his brothers are trained too, and no salt to them, but…
    * 🌟 Damian was raised to be an assassin from his earliest days, and the League does not suffer failures. The importance of spatial/situational awareness was among the first lessons that both his mother and father drilled into him, so as you can imagine he’s hyper aware of his surroundings at all times.
    * 🌟 All it takes is for him to go to a place once, maybe twice if the route is especially tricky/the space is expansive, and he can tell you how to get around/where all the exits are/where the nearest restroom is/etc.
      * 🎁 Low-key reminds me of that one episode of _King of the Hill_ when Hank tells Peggy something like _“I can’t enjoy a party until I know where the bathroom is. You knew that when you married me.”_ Lmao…
    * 🌟 Your getting separated is also never a thing that’s gonna happen. He wouldn’t call himself paranoid per say as that implies a level of fear that he would never be so weak as to allow himself to feel, but rather he’s _prudent._
      * 🎁 Even without his former associations with the League and his vigilante work he’s still a Wayne and that fact alone is more than enough to make him a target. If you’re with him you’re a target by proxy and he’ll be damned if he allows you to be a pawn, or gods forbid, come to harm because someone wanted to get to him.
      * 🎁 He’ll watch you like a hawk, though he won’t be intrusive about it. He keeps things subtle enough that it just seems like he’s being attentive, when really he’s already plotted out a plan to body everyone in this store if they so much as blink the wrong way lmao.
  * 🎄 Overall Damian’s GSD approach is perfect for me personally so I would give him a 10/10. His flexibility, lack of complaints, and helpfulness makes him ideal for any type of shopper, however, so still—10/10.



## || Timothy Jackson Drake

  * 🎄 Tim’s more so of an online shopper. It’s fast, convenient, and he can buy things while he’s still thinking about it. His mind can only hold on to so much data, and his capacity is far better than most people’s, but still. Things that are relatively less important don’t get forgotten, but rather get pushed to the backburner only to resurface at the very last minute. If he buys the thing now he can avoid having to rush around to get it later.
    * 🌟 Like all of his brothers he’s good at picking out gifts. It just goes along with being a Bat, tbh.
    * 🌟 His observational skills combined with his wealth means that you’ll be getting the pricier things on your wishlist despite never having asked for them. And it doesn’t matter if you actively go out of your way to keep this from him—he will find out one way or another so you might as well save you both some time and tell him what you want lol.
  * 🎄 If he is at the point where he’s shopping in store he’s probably panicking, to be honest lmao.
    * 🌟 Well ‘panicking’ is too strong of a word. He knows what he’s going to get, he just has to go get it. Now. Because he needs it like yesterday and, well, I wouldn’t want to be the person standing between him and his prize is all I’m saying.
    * 🌟 If he’s lucky and the store is obliging he can have them hold the item at the counter, but there are still some things that the Wayne name can’t do and he’s okay with that really. He knows that he’s in a position of entitlement and that he gets special treatment more often than not so when it doesn’t happen he just rolls with it.
    * 🌟 He tries not to be too manic when he’s in this sort of predicament, though he is very purposeful. He sets his face into a configuration that says trying to talk to him isn’t a good idea atm and power walks and it’s equal parts hilarious and intimidating to witness.
    * 🌟 Will definitely pull you and his friends into his foolishness providing you’re not the ones he’s trying to get the gift for.
      * 🎁 _“Here’s a list of all the stores that are selling the thing. I marked which ones I need you guys to hit up. Between all of us we should be able to get it done.”_
  * 🎄 When he’s accompanying you shopping he’s that partner that kinda spaces out and-or wanders off.
    * 🌟 He doesn’t mean to, it’s just… Well shopping bores him, tbh, and that thing over there is kinda interesting so…
      * 🎁 One time you asked him to hold your purse/wallet/whatever you keep your money in and he wandered off to _a whole ‘nother store_ with that shit lmao. Thankfully he was just a phone call away, but still, you inconvenienced several people waiting for his ass to come back.
    * 🌟 If you want him to pay attention you’ll have to actively engage him. Ask him if he likes the item in question and the like. He’s fine so long as he has something to focus on, but the minute he feels like his attention is no longer needed the Mii theme music starts playing on loop.
      * 🎁 A lot of this is due to his fucked up sleep schedule. You cannot expect this man to function like a normal human being when he’s running on less than four hours of sleep and a double shot of 5-Hour Energy.
    * 🌟 Definitely would prefer to be your pack mule that you leave on the bench. So long as he’s got his phone or Switch and a snack he’s good lol.
  * 🎄 As far as getting lost goes he’s p. practical about the whole thing.
    * 🌟 Like Jay he’d be a little peeved that he allowed it to happen in the first place as he’s fully convinced that he should be better than this, but he writes it off to being a sleepy bitch.
    * 🌟 He’ll pull up a map so he can situate himself, and that’s p. much it. If he’s still shopping he’ll continue on with that, and if he’s trying to find his way out then he’s gone.
    * 🌟 If you’ve gotten separated then he’s gonna freak, though not to the degree of the others. He’ll be calm and rational about it until it’s obvious that more drastic actions need to be taken, and if things get to _that_ point, well…
      * 🎁 He’s not as dramatic as Dick, nor as surly as Jay about it. He’s caught somewhere in the middle; asking around, and elevating things from there as needed.
    * 🌟 Expect him to be hella pouty and clingy when he finally does find you.
      * 🎁 Like all the Bats he’s got abandonment issues, and shit like this? Yeah, it doesn’t exactly help matters. You’re probably better off going home at that point, unless you can somehow manage to shop with a grown ass man basically hanging off of you like a baby koala.
    * 🌟 Will make you swear not to tell anyone that y’all got lost as he knows he’ll never hear the end of it lol.
  * 🎄 Overall he’s probably 5/10 as far as shopping buddies go, and I feel like I’m being generous lol. Shopping with him takes more effort than it’s worth, imo, but if the above listed things don’t bother you too much go for it…




	10. Day Four || Dick Grayson || Let’s Wrap This Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Four || Wrapping Presents  
>   
>  _Doesn’t matter how small the feat, he’s always gonna celebrate you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You see what I did what the title there? Ya know, because this is about _gift **wrapping**?_ And also this is actually the last one I wrote for this prompt and I’m so ready to be done with it lmao. Ahahaha~ I’m so clever… (( ~~No I’m not, I’m just tired and hungry and I need an adult because I don’t feel like being one anymore…~~ ))  
>   
> Anyways!  
>   
> Sorry for the wait, guys. I’ve been pretty fatigued as of late, but I’ve finally been able to put this together. Is it any good? I honestly don’t even know at this point, but it’s done so I might as well share it. It’s yet another batch of HCs, though this time they’ve got some ficlets to go with ‘em. (Hopefully) Enjoy!!

  * 🎄 Dick’s p. good at wrapping gifts, but only because he’s practiced a lot.
  * 🎄 Prior to this he was middling at best. Like he could wrap things well enough, but the results always lacked that polish that he so longed for. 
    * 🌟 The corners were never as sharp as they could be, the tabby bits on the sides were always more rectangular than triangular or vis versa, depending on the cut (and he still doesn’t know how he managed that), and he used far more tape than what was probably necessary.
    * 🌟 His biggest problem was, wait for it—his need for speed.
    * 🌟 Lacking the natural talent of Jay and Dames and the years of experience that Alife has, it was no small wonder that his end results were always kinda janky lol. Once he slowed down some things got better and once he invested dozens of hours into honing the skill he got to the point that he could– Well he couldn’t exactly rival the others, but dammit he could at least be called a contender lol. 
      * 🎁 We’re not gonna talk about the fact that this dude legit went and enrolled himself in a gift wrapping class at the community college lmao. 
        * ❄ ((and yes this is a real thing that some colleges offer—at least around these here parts; one of the local community colleges in my area has a lot of really random one-off classes that you can take over the summer, and gift wrapping is one of them))
      * 🎁 Naturally the teacher doted on him because it’s Dick and he’s a sweetheart, but what’s more he was just so earnest and eager to learn that it warmed every last cockle and crevice that her heart contained. 
        * ❄ He definitely still sends her a Christmas card and a box of candy every year, the big softie…
      * 🎄 Also, it should be said that his drive to get better at wrapping wasn’t fueled by vanity or competitiveness. 
        * 🌟 When you dig into even the most seemingly inconsequential decisions and whims, you’ll always find Dick’s caring nature to be at the core of them. He loves to bring a smile to his loved one’s faces and while his wack wrapping job can garner a few laughs, he finds that putting in the work to making sure that things are as nice as he can make them is by far more rewarding. He knows how much he always appreciates when someone puts in that little bit of extra effort for him, so how could he not act in kind?
      * 🎄 He’s very eager to share his acquired knowledge so if you ask him to teach you he most certainly will! 
        * 🌟 He’ll set up a wrapping station similar to Dames and Jay’s though he won’t be nearly so, erm, militant? I guess is a good word for it? as his baby brothers.
        * 🌟 Expect lots of kisses as rewards… and in between lessons… and for the duration of the lesson tbh because homie cannot keep his hands off of you.
        * 🌟 Honestly it’s probably gonna take several sessions for you to actually start improving because things always devolve into make-out sessions lol.
      * 🎄 As far as aesthetics go he doesn’t really have a preference or personal style. Well, unless you consider ‘hella random combinations’ a signature look lol. 
        * 🌟 Metallics, textured patterns, novelty Nightwing prints that he knows for a fact that he didn’t approve but it’s hella cute so he’ll let it slide—nothing is off the table.
        * 🌟 Whatever he uses to top his gifts with rarely if ever matches the paper. Neither of you know if he’s doing it on purpose, tbh.
      * 🎄 He has no issues with using a gift box or bag or letting a professional tend to things (esp. if the item proves to be too tricky to wrap properly), but he does prefer to wrap things by hand whenever possible. After all it’s the personal touches that make all the difference!



## ✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:*:ﾟ*••:۞:••*ﾟ:*:ﾟ･✧*:ﾟ･✧

> _CW for some implied intimacy. Nothing too racy, but you definitely can tell where things are heading lol…_

“No, love, that’s not quite right. You’re gonna want to– Here, let me show you.”

A pair of sweater-clad arms cage you in as deft hands smooth over the paper. Dick makes sure to keep his movements slow enough that you can follow along, and while his efforts are appreciated they’re ultimately useless as you cannot rightly focus when he’s this close. He narrates as he goes, though you’re not able to register much outside of the feeling of his voice rumbling through his chest where it’s pressed flush against your back.

“–that, ya see? See how it’s laying flat now? That’s what you wanna do if you want nice clean lines.” His long, pretty fingers trace over the crisp edge in a movement that is unduly mesmerizing…

…and is it really considered simping if it’s your husband that’s the object of your infatuation?

You blink away some of your stupor just in time to watch him apply the tape in a few key places, and once he’s done his hands come down to rest on your hips. The gesture is chaste enough, though you find yourself biting down on a shiver when he speaks his next words directly into your ear.

“Okay, I did this side now you try to do the other one. You can do that for me, can’t you, love?”  
A little peck punctuates the request and in that moment you’re totally convinced that he’s trying to end you, or at least your sanity.

You nod a bit dumbly as you try to will your hands to mirror his movements. It takes a couple of tries, but in the end you’re able to replicate his results. By your estimation the feat is hardly worth lauding, but that has never stopped your man before. His whooping cry of _“You did it!”_ is followed by a tight hug and a flurry of kisses to your neck and cheek. His actions essentially undo all of your hard work as he’s kept you from securing the tabs with tape, but that’s a problem for later. Right now you’ve got your arms full of a very enthusiastic Bat, one that seems all too ready to show you just how proud he is of your improvement.

“Just last week you could hardly manage a small lil’ box,” he starts, the words spoken in between sweet little pecks, “but look at you now. All that hard work _definitely_ deserves a reward…”

You laugh a bit even as your cheeks heat. “Babe, I literally just wrapped half of a box—not even the whole thing, just half.”

“Yeah, but you did it _so damn well._ Gotta celebrate the little things too, yeah?” His hands feather up and down your sides as he takes you in with heavily lidded eyes and lips that are just that little bit more plush from his ministrations and _god_ , he’s _so_ **_pretty_** _…_

…Seriously though, _is_ this simping?  
Because it low-key feels like it is.

Either way that’s a debate for another day. If he wants to reward you for your efforts, minimal though they may be, then who are you to argue?


	11. Day Four || Damian Wayne || His Favorite Helper Elf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Four || Wrapping Presents  
>   
>  _He falls a little deeper every day…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, guys. I’ve been pretty fatigued as of late, but I’ve finally been able to put this together. Is it any good? I honestly don’t even know at this point, but it’s done so I might as well share it. It’s yet another batch of HCs, though this time they’ve got some ficlets to go with ‘em. (Hopefully) Enjoy!!

  * 🎄 Damian is v. good at wrapping gifts tho this doesn’t come as a surprise because Damian is good at _everything_ lol.
  * 🎄 But seriously, stuff like this is right up his alley as he really likes activities that require precision and-or a lot of detail work. 
    * 🌟 Tbh he’s pretty anal about things, though once again this shouldn’t come as a surprise. Dames is a perfectionist—it doesn’t matter how small or inconsequential the task is, there is _always_ a proper way to go about things.
    * 🌟 Those corners? Sharp. Edges, laid. Tape? It’s on there, but you can barely see it. How he manages to secure things with such a small amount is truly mind boggling. 
      * 🎁 ((Spoiler: That tape is double-sided. That’s it, that’s his secret lol))
    * 🎄 As far as aesthetics go his tastes tend to be more austere. 
      * 🌟 There’s just something about plain brown paper and twine that he finds utterly charming. In fact if given his way he would do the whole of your decorations in this rustic minimalist style.
      * 🌟 Of course he knows this isn’t everyone’s thing, and he’s more than willing to adapt to the recipient’s tastes. 
        * 🎁 Well _now_ , at least. I can definitely see Damian’s younger self being a little shit that didn’t much care about making nice. Like he’s being v. generous in even giving you the gift in the first place, at the very least he should get the enjoyment of wrapping it to his liking. And _you_ should just be glad you’re getting something when you could just as easily be getting a whole bunch of nothing.
        * 🎁 …Yeah, kid had some issues that manifested themselves in a lot of misplaced anger that would crop up over the most random things. Birthdays esp. rubbed him the wrong way because why is this person being celebrated for being born—a thing which they had no say in or control over—and subsequently surviving? They’ve literally done the absolute bare minimum and yet here people are making a big fuss over it and he just?? Doesn’t get it??? 
          * ❄ As he got older and began to sort out his trauma he realized that it was a vicious form of jealousy mixed with resentment that was the cause for his ire. He never had those things growing up under his mother’s care, and once he was taken in by his father he actively shunned them as he’d been taught that such indulgences bred weakness (a big fucking load, that, given the lavish lifestyle Ra’s leads, but double standards and such).
          * ❄ Growing up as he did the laws of nature, specifically survival of the fittest, were held up as standards. Because of this expectations were high and things thought to be worthy of lauding were all but nonexistent. Even his most astonishing feats barely got more than a nod of recognition (because you don’t get a pat on the head for doing what you’re supposed to do) so for people to go all out over living to their next year—esp. when they had normal, cushy lives—yeah, _no._
          * ❄ With the motivations for his reactions discovered, he was adamant about doing everything in his power to turn things around as he hates the thought of allowing anything from his past to further taint his future. The process has been a slow one, and honestly sometimes he still looks at things through jaded eyes, but he’s healing. The League wanted him to be an unfeeling killer, his mother a pawn, but those who truly care for him have always wanted so much more. Because of this he strives daily to be a man worthy of you all as well as the hopes that you have for him.
          * ❄ But this is getting too heavy and we’re not really here for that so let’s move on!
        * 🎁 He’ll pick things that compliments the person’s personal tastes and-or the event. They’ll still be on the plainer side tho (i.e. solid colored paper and toppers), but like _really_ He uses good quality materials and it shows. If it has a glossy finish then you’re gonna be able to see your reflection in that shit, if its matte then it’s going to have a nice texture to it, and if it’s metallic then it’s definitely got legit gold/silver leaf on it.
      * 🌟 Though it’s kinda contrary to what’s been said thus far, he really loves elaborate toppers. Doesn’t matter if it’s a bow or ribbons or whatever else—that’s always gonna be the most ostentatious part of the packaging.
    * 🎄 Lessons will be provided upon request, but this is Dames we’re talking about, so… He’ll go a little easier on you because you’re his baby, but still lol. He’s about on par with Jay when it comes to his teaching methods.
    * 🎄 He will never use a gift box or bag. Don’t try to fight him on this, you will just die mad and tired.
    * 🎄 Same goes for letting so-called ‘professionals’ wrap things for him. Like Jay he feels that his skills are equal, no _better_ than what those people could ever hope to achieve. And ya know what? He isn’t wrong, and maybe he should say it lol.
    * 🎄 Though he puts a lot of work into his wrapping he absolutely loves to see you rip it to shreds. 
      * 🌟 There’s just something about the childlike glee that overtakes your face when you do this that just hits different. Does it have something to do with catching a glimpse of the childhood he never got to indulge in and is now reliving through you in this small way? Mayhaps. But he’s not actively looking that deeply into things, he just wants to enjoy this moment with you… 
        * 🎁 ((But omg if you guys have kids it’s _so_ He’s gonna get them a grip of gifts just so there’ll be more things for them to unwrap and squeal over. Definitely the type to have a whole damn tribe if you let him, but that’s a HC for another day…))



## ✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:*:ﾟ*••:۞:••*ﾟ:*:ﾟ･✧*:ﾟ･✧

“May I borrow your finger, beloved?”

The inquiry makes you smile. Damian hardly needs your help to tie the bow—you’ve seen him create shapes far more elaborate, and frankly verging on the impossible, without any assistance—but it’s nice of him to want to include you even in this small way.

Fairly early on into the gift wrapping session you had decided to leave things in his overly capable hands as by comparison your efforts looked like those of a toddler’s. Of course your man was far too enamored with you to say as much, but you’re positive that he was thinking it. But it’s all just as well as Dames has always enjoyed such tasks and _you_ enjoy watching him unwind, so really it’s a win-win.

You place your finger in the indicated spot only to remove it some odd seconds later as deft digits continue to manipulate the length of ribbon until it’s properly coiffed and secured. You take the finished gift and add it to the ‘done pile’, though when you go to reach for the next unwrapped item you come up empty.

“Looks like we’re, or well _you’re_ finished,” you comment as you look over the culmination of his hard work.

Long, toned arms secure themselves around your middle and you find yourself being pulled back into an equally muscled chest. You lean into the embrace, sighing a bit when soft lips brush against your temple.

“You played your roll,” he assures you as he rests his chin against your shoulder, “and beautifully at that, my love.”

Your huff of laughter is totally disbelieving. He’s being far too generous, you only wrapped two gifts total, both of which are for some out of town loved ones—currently they’re tucked away in boxes waiting to be mailed so at least they won’t have to be displayed alongside his masterworks—and when you tell him as much you can feel him shrug.

“Still, you stayed and kept me company. This wouldn’t have been nearly as enjoyable an endeavor without you. You’re the perfect little helper elf.”

Your brow arches at the title even as you laugh. “If I’m a helper elf then what does that make you? And you can’t say Santa because he’s not about that wrapping life. Plus that’d also make Mrs. Claus your main squeeze and _I’m_ not about that side piece life.”

The fact that you’ve gotten him to laugh so hard more than makes up for almost having your eardrum blown out by his initial bark of laughter.

Still chuckling, he turns you so that you’re facing him. The jade of his eyes sparkles with a mixture of mirth and love-fueled warmth as he looks you over, though it soon shifts into something deeper. Damian once told you that he falls in love with you all over again, several times a day, every day—the soft sweep of a calloused thumb over the swell of your cheek leaves you with the impression that this is one such moment.

There’s no fire behind his kiss, just a heart-aching affection that leaves your knees weak and your lids fluttering close. He lingers in your space long after the kiss is broken, forehead braced against yours and eyes shut. There’s a small smile pulling at his lips, one born of pure contentment, one that says there’s no place else he’d rather be than right here in your arms…


	12. Day Four || Jason Todd || ‘Martha Steward’ Who?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Four || Wrapping Presents  
>   
>  _It’s on sight, Ms. Stewart._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, guys. I’ve been pretty fatigued as of late, but I’ve finally been able to put this together. Is it any good? I honestly don’t even know at this point, but it’s done so I might as well share it. It’s yet another batch of HCs, though this time they’ve got some ficlets to go with ‘em. (Hopefully) Enjoy!!

  * 🎄 Jay’s one of those people that’s weirdly good at wrapping things.
  * 🎄 It’s a natural talent that he didn’t even know he had until he moved in with Bruce. 
    * 🌟 I personally canon all the boys as being hella close with Alfred, but Jason was by far the one that spent the most time with him. There was just something about the older man that set him at ease. Around Bruce he always felt like he had to be ‘on’. Part of this was due to the (one-sided) competition that he had going on with Dick. Grayson was—and still is if we’re being completely honest—the golden child. He set the standard on what it meant to be Robin, and goddamn if that bar isn’t high as _fuck_ to this very day.
    * 🌟 Jay spent a long time trying to live up to what he felt was expected of him. Where Bruce saw drive, Alfred recognized the anxiety and longing to emerge from the long cast of the first son’s shadow. Because of this he always made sure that Jay knew that such efforts weren’t needed with him, that he saw his value and worth not only as Robin, but as Jason Peter Todd-Wayne (which, ofc the others did too, but Jay didn’t always perceive it that way). His touch was a light one, as anything more would have insulted the brash child; Jay’s never been one for being babied or pitied, after all.
    * 🌟 But we’re getting off track here—suffice it to say, he felt a lot more at ease in the aging butler’s company than he did in most others for a very long time.
    * 🌟 Anyways!
    * 🌟 During one of their hangout sessions Alfie was wrapping gifts for one occasion or another and Jay offered to help out and what do you know—the kid turned out to be some sort of wrapping prodigy lol.
  * 🎄 He finds the act of wrapping things to be rather relaxing. Given his natural affinity for it he barely has to concentrate on the task; he just lets his hands run on autopilot. It’s one of the few things that allows him a measure of true zen. 
    * 🌟 He also does origami for the same reason. He hadn’t even considered it until Kori had gone on one of her fixation tangents. She ended up buying a bunch of supplies for all of them to practice with, all too sure that her boys would indulge her latest flight of fancy lol. Naturally Roy was all for it, Jay less so though once he got into it he found that he loved it.
    * 🌟 At any given time your home has at least a half dozen little paper creations scattered about it. Like I said back in [Day 2](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28108830/chapters/69208176)’s installment he’s not a big fan of clutter, so they get swapped out fairly regularly, with the old ones getting tossed unless you insist on keeping them (in which case you’re gonna have to squirrel them away in a box or something).
  * 🎄 Can and will use his superior skills to flex on folk—you included lmao. Though if you ask nicely he’ll be happy to give you some pointers so that you can up your game. 
    * 🌟 He’s weirdly serious about the whole thing, tho. Like… He sets up a legit wrapping station complete with different types of paper (ones of varying thickness, textures, etc. as he insists that these variances all require different wrapping techniques), a grip of tape, some heavy ass scissors, and boxes and items of all different sizes and shapes.
    * 🌟 He also focuses on the aesthetics of it, so you’re gonna get a bonus lesson in how to choose the right wrapping paper, when you should use streamers as opposed to bows, ribbons and how to tie them, etc.
    * 🌟 He turns out to be a patient, but oddly strict teacher. When you ask him why he’s going in so hard he just kinda shrugs. 
      * 🎁 _“Gotta do it right, doll, or there’s no point in doin’ it at all…”_
      * 🎁 ((Tbh he’s not used to people looking to him for guidance in general, let alone in something non-combat related. He doesn’t want to disappoint either of you by doing a half-assed job so he makes sure to give it his all.))
    * 🎄 It should also be said that he’s not above using gift boxes/bags, but he won’t like it lol. 
      * 🌟 The circumstances under which he does so are v. specific and has some rather weird conditions. Like he has to know the person has a preference for the things over wrapping paper for some reason, or there’s no wrapping paper/fabric in a 100 mile radius, or his fingers are broke…
    * 🎄 In that same vein, he will more than likely never employ a professional’s help either as he feels like whatever they can do he can do better and for free so why waste the loot? 
      * 🌟 Yes, his opinion still stands even if it’s for some high class function. He’s just that good and you both know it, so what’s the point in pretending otherwise?



## ✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:*:ﾟ*••:۞:••*ﾟ:*:ﾟ･✧*:ﾟ･✧

> _CW for some v. briefly and vaguely described fade to black action at the very end. *cough* ~~guess you must’ve wrapped the **hell** outta that gift lmao~~*cough*_

You wait with bated breath as your man inspects the parcel before him.

With its sharp creases, smooth sides, and expertly tied bow your offer would be considered immaculate, flawless even, to anyone else—but Jason Peter Todd isn’t just _‘anyone’_.

To call him the Gordon Ramsay of gift wrapping would be both disingenuous and not. On the one had his standards are just as unattainably high, but on the other he hasn’t hit you with any rudely creative insults which is good as you’re not entirely sure how you’d react if he told you your efforts were comparable to a drunk elf’s or the like.

For his part Jay runs an examining finger from one corner of the box to the other, following the line down and inwards along the perfectly pleated side tab. He gives the paper there a small flick, but the tape holds, much to your relief; the last time he’d done that the tab had popped and you got a several minute long lecture about the importance of securing your seams properly— _“Good effort, doll, but all the pretty wrappin’ in the world don’t matter if that shit falls apart before you can get it out of the house.”_

He conducts a few more test of integrity, giving you a nod of approval as your wrapping stands up to each one. Once he’s satisfied he moves on to scrutinizing your artistic vision, and in the end he deems this to be acceptable as well. Well, _mostly_ , as he finds the glitter encrusted paper to be a bit much when paired with the equally blinged out ribbon, but Cass’s ongoing obsession with grainy textures makes the combination acceptable.

“–and with that in mind,” he continues on, “Imma give you a ten outta ten. Good work, baby.”

You may legitimately squeal over the praise, but who can really blame you? After spending the better part of the weekend having every little mistake picked apart—albeit in a loving way—you’ve finally got the approval you’ve been so desperately craving. Jay pulls you into a hug then, chuckling all the while as you let out a long sigh of relief, though your comment of _“‘Martha Stewart’ who?”_ leaves him tutting.

“Hol’ up, let’s not get crazy here, babe. Martha is a _legend._ Now don’t get me wrong, you’re a helluva lot better at wrapping shit than most people, but you’re nowhere near being at the level where you can besmirch the name of Queen Stewart.”

You snort at that. “Whatever. Chick better not blink because I’m coming for that crown.”

“Aw, word? Okay, I see you, I see you…”

As your shared laughter tapers off you can feel a shift in the atmosphere. Levity is traded in for hooded eyes and smirking lips. The quick switch up leaves you confused until he reminds you of the reason you’ve been working so hard. Upping your wrapping game had been the initial goal, yes, but the incentive that awaited you should perfect your methods saw your motivations skewing…

“Ready to claim your reward, doll?”

The sentence is mumbled against lips that have just been released from a breath-stealing kiss. You’ve barely managed to reply before strong arms are sweeping you off of your feet. Your peals of surprised laughter are swallowed by more hungry kisses as you leave behind the stack of perfectly wrapped gifts for soft sheets and warm bodies and shared breaths.


	13. Day Four || Tim Drake || And Now You Know (So Please Never Ask Again)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Four || Wrapping Presents  
>   
>  _He doesn’t fail often, but when he does it’s usually in the most ridiculous way possible…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, guys. I’ve been pretty fatigued as of late, but I’ve finally been able to put this together. Is it any good? I honestly don’t even know at this point, but it’s done so I might as well share it. It’s yet another batch of HCs, though this time they’ve got some ficlets to go with ‘em. (Hopefully) Enjoy!!

  * 🎄 The king of gift boxes/bags.
  * 🎄 Look, he gets that tearing the wrapping paper off (or gently removing and preserving the integrity of it, if you’re that way inclined) of a gift is half the fun, but…
  * 🎄 …he’s terrible at wrapping stuff.
  * 🎄 Don’t worry, he’s fully aware of how ridiculous that is as: 
    * 🌟 1.) He’s a gd He can hit a target on the other side of the room with Kobe-like precision, never mind the hand-eye coordination needed to wield a bo staff half as well he does.
    * 🌟 2.) He plays so many video games that said hand-eye coordination has been further honed into a fine point.
    * 🌟 And finally—he’s a grown ass adult.
    * 🌟 By his estimation all of these facts mean that he should be able to wrap a fucking present and not have it look like something an enthusiastic toddler cobbled together and yet…
  * 🎄 Look, he’s trying his best here, but– He’s just _bad_ at it, guys. Like really, **_really_** bad and it doesn’t make any sense and it annoys him to no end but there doesn’t seem to be anything for it. 
    * 🌟 Somehow he always manages to cut the wrapping paper either too damn small or comically big.
    * 🌟 _Tape._ So much tape all over the place.
    * 🌟 The creases are never straight and he always manages to wrinkle or tear (usually both) the wrapping paper.
    * 🌟 Also papercuts are a thing that almost always happens and though he has been in far worse pain, there’s just something special about the stinging throb of a papercut that makes him want to avoid the things at all costs.
  * 🎄 He’s asked Alfie for lessons, but they didn’t stick for whatever reason. 
    * 🌟 He’s briefly contemplated asking his brothers and-or Bruce for help but ultimately decided that the resulting incessant teasing wouldn’t be worth it, like at all.
    * 🌟 Also high-key blames the whole thing on the biological’s janky parenting. They were so obsessed with him being a little genius that they didn’t do normal kid stuff with him. 
      * 🎁 There was no sitting around, drinking coco, and wrapping presents in the Drake household.
      * 🎁 Any and all gifts were wrapped by professionals and placed (by their maid) under their immaculately trimmed tree (which was also decorated by professionals).
      * 🎁 For Tim the holidays felt real mass produced before Alfred and the rest came along, but I digress so let’s move on…
    * 🎄 He’s also contemplated letting Amazon/store workers wrap his gifts for him, but that feels like cheating? Yes, he’s well aware that this makes no sense, but it’s how he feels in his heart of hearts lmao. 
      * 🌟 (( _Definitely_ has everything to do with what was mentioned above))
      * 🌟 Though if it’s for something more upscale—like a wedding, for example—he’ll cave and let a professional handle it.
    * 🎄 So yeah, boxes and bags are his jam, and he always picks out really cute, hella expensive ones. 
      * 🌟 You’re never gonna get something with a basic pattern, or more boring yet, a flat solid color. He always makes sure to get something that matches your tastes and-or the occasion.
      * 🌟 And he always makes sure to get all the fixings to go in the bags. Tbh by the time he’s done with the things they look like something out of a Hallmark display case.
      * 🌟 But uhh… We’re… we’re not gonna talk about that time that he tried to make you a bag by hand (per Dick’s pestering). Let’s just say that level of DIY/arts and crafts projects aren’t his thing and move on lol.
    * 🎄 If you’re one of those people (like me) who don’t really care for all the frills then he honestly may love you just that little bit more. 
      * 🌟 Do you know how many times he’s wanted to just slap a bow on a gift and call it a damn day? 
        * 🎁 Spoiler: It’s _Every._ _Fucking. Time._
      * 🎄 So in conclusion: 
        * 🌟 Wrapping presents by hand/letting some store employee do it: _Drake nah hand_
        * 🌟 Putting gifts in a box/bag selected specifically for his loved ones: _Drake yeah hand_
          * 🎁 ((This was meant to be the actual meme, but AO3 is weird about adding pics so…))



## ✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:*:ﾟ*••:۞:••*ﾟ:*:ﾟ･✧*:ﾟ･✧

“‘ _Aww come on babe, how bad can it beeee?_ ’ **_Pfft_** _._ ”

You snort at the mocking approximation of your voice. You do _not_ sound like that—or at least you don’t _think_ you do. Either way, the answer to that foolish question has turned out to be _‘Pretty damn bad’_ , but before you can comment Tim’s defeated sigh crescendos into a frustrated growl. He tosses the tape he’d been battling with for the past minute aside with enough force that it bounces off of the table to land amongst the pile of discarded wads of wrapping paper with a dull clatter. You’re fairly certain that the thin plastic casing is cracked now, but given that the edge had gotten stuck to the roll (and is now subsequently lost to you for all time) you figure it doesn’t matter overmuch.

When he told you that he wasn’t the best at wrapping gifts you were inclined to believe him—after all Tim’s honest to the point of self-deprecation when it comes to his shortcomings—but you honestly hadn’t thought that he would be _this_ bad. In fact you didn’t know that it was humanly possible to be this level of terrible at something so simple, and yet you’ve got several mangled rolls of paper, an entire bag’s worth of crushed bows, and several bandaged fingers that tell the harrowing tale.

You open your arms to him then, and though he’s low-key glaring and high-key pouting the whole time he settles into your warmth just the same. As you run your fingers through his messy mop of curls you feel him relaxing by increments until he’s all but boneless against you. Between the lulling, repetitive motion and the metronome of your heartbeat it comes as no surprise that Tim literally falls asleep on you, not that you mind one bit. His weight is a welcome one, grounding and secure.

Eventually you’re going to have to package your gifts one way or another, but that’s Future You’s problem. For now you’re more than content to give in to the slumber that tugs at the edges of your consciousness. You pull your man impossibly closer, sighing in the way of the terminally lovesick when he squeezes you in kind, and allow yourself to drift away…

**Author's Note:**

> 🌟 Kudos and comments are always appreciated!  
> 🌟 You can also find this collection over on [my tumblr.](https://notepadsandtealeaves.tumblr.com/post/637672225766555648/12-days-of-batmas-masterlist-x-reader-inserts)  
> 🌟 Though it isn’t currently the plan, the rating may go up at some point.  
>   
> [My personal tumblr](https://thepuckishrogue.tumblr.com/)| [My writing tumblr](https://notepadsandtealeaves.tumblr.com/) | [My mug of ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/thepuckishrogue#)*  
> *((please note that donations are never a requirement either, just thought I'd give people the option. Writing's a passion of mine and I'm gonna do it regardless...))


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